


Peter Obfonteri-Udonta: Star Child

by aresvera



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Childhood, Daddy Yondu, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Language, Family, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Fluff, Husbands, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, Kid Peter Quill, Kidnapping, Marvel Universe, Mates, Mild Gore, Momma Kraglin, One Shot Collection, Parent Kraglin Obfonteri, Parent Yondu Udonta, Pre-Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Protective Kraglin Obfonteri, Protective Parents, Protective Yondu Udonta, Ravagers - Freeform, Spanking, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:35:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27594898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aresvera/pseuds/aresvera
Summary: An AU/cannon divergent collection of Peter Quill being raised by Daddy Yondu and Momma Kraglin.Chapter 1 - Kraglin and Yondu have to decide what they should do with their infant cargo when it becomes clear to both of them that they can't give the boy to Ego.Chapters 2 & 3 - Young Peter gets in a fight with another Ravager which lands him in hot water with the Captain. Kraglin steps up as Momma-bear to pick up the pieces.Chapter 4 - Aleta comes to inspect the Eclector. What will she do when she discovers the secret 7 years in the making?Chapter 5 - Toddler Peter wants to be a Big Boy but he's still pretty attached to his soother. *Celestial powers peaking out!*
Relationships: Kraglin Obfonteri & Peter Quill, Kraglin Obfonteri/Yondu Udonta, Peter Quill & Yondu Udonta
Comments: 44
Kudos: 135





	1. Now What? - Baby on Board

**Author's Note:**

> *TW cursing and swearing, cannon-typical mentions of death and violence*

Kraglin was exhausted. It had been nearly three weeks since they picked the little Terran twerp up and he hadn’t slept more than three hours at a time since. It irked him to feel that he had grown so soft. When he was living in the slums of Xandar, he slept when he could, when it was safe, grabbing minutes here and there. He truly musta been younger then, because the man he had become had no idea how his teenage-self had done it. Surely that had been worse than having this tiny Terran around, and yet he felt like he’d never been so damn spent before.

Yondu got their first job from Ego several years back. Then their second came not long after that. And a few years passed that they didn’t think of Ego or them kids again. Stakar could shove his warning, they figured. They’d done as close to a good deed as Ravagers do – reuniting families an’ all.

The strange thing was that them kids were two different species, completely incompatible with each other. Kraglin had wondered what the hell Ego was, to be able to copulate with species that far apart on the spectrum. He had put it out of mind then, but the thought was back as he stared at the pink fleshy infant who had woken him for the second time this night-cycle.

Kraglin wasn’t sure if all Terrans were this fussy as babes, or if Peter was just a particularly needy little brat. When the pathetic whimpering woke him, Kraglin nearly wanted to cry too. He was so friggin beat. But he didn’t want the Captain bothered, so he forced himself up from their warm bed and stumbled through the dark to the crib they had set up in their quarters and lifted the wriggling tot into his arms. He gently bounced the child to keep the hiccupping whimpers from becoming sobs. That would wake the Captain for sure.

“What is it, baby?” he cooed softly, telling himself it wasn’t to be kind or give the little one comfort, but rather for his mate. That’s why he was doing this. He was a tough Ravager who happened to love his Captain. Not an open heart for a little orphan child to wheedle into. “What do you need, Petey?” he continued to shush to baby, as he checked the first option, the babe’s diaper. “You’re dry,” he told the little one, and breathed a sigh of relief. Once they dropped this kid off, he was getting himself fixed because he sure as shit wasn’t signing up to change another diaper again. “You hungry, brat?”

He toted the child over to the small fridge he had by the crib where he kept formula rations on hand for this exact situation. At least they were getting better prepared and little hacks like having the formula bottled and ready for warming made night feedings that much more mindless and therefore bearable.

Once the bottle was warmed by the little device on the fridge, Kraglin carried the baby over to the couch they had. He plopped down tiredly and laid the boy mostly in his lap, with the little feet kicking over onto the sofa. He supported the baby’s neck in the crook of his arm and held the bottle to his small lips.

Peter fussed a bit, squirming until Kraglin adjusted him once more and tapped the bottle against his mouth. Kraglin sighed with relief as Peter took to the bottle. If it weren’t hunger, he wasn’t sure what he’d have to check next. As the baby started suckling, he kicked his feet less, and the room was quiet again, except for Yondu’s mild snoring and the little gurling noising of a nursing baby.

Now that they were set, Kraglin knew he had to stay awake for at least a few more minutes, for Peter to drink his fill and fall back asleep. It seemed far away, but Kraglin reminded himself how good it would feel to tuck the tiny Terran in and climb back into his own bed with his lover. He could almost feel his bones relaxing at the thought.

He looked down at the child and felt struck somewhere deep inside as he stared into the big emerald eyes that were looking back at him like he was the only other person in the whole damn galaxy. Something deep inside him ached.

He couldn’t help but remember those concerns about Ego. What could he possibly be? Captain had ordered him to put it out of mind with the other two, who had been nearly teens, but now… Peter wasn’t even walking yet. The babe was completely defenseless. Kraglin couldn’t ignore those gut feelings when he looked at this child. Terrans were, again, so damn different than the other two kids. It didn’t make no sense. What kind of creature impregnated women of all types of species around the galaxy?

More importantly, _how_ did them women keep dying?

One dead momma was heartbreaking. Two dead mommas were a tragedy…

But _three_? … That’s a pattern, ain’t it?

Kraglin’s free hand alternated between patting Peter’s belly or gently pulling at the little toes on the squirming feet. He was so precious. Warm and cuddly, an affectionate little thing who clung shyly to his neck around new people. Curly strawberry blond hair, bright green eyes, pink little cheeks. And he weren’t much of a crier. Fussy, sure, but he didn’t scream near as much as he could have. Calmed down quick, at least. Those damn big eyes, so innocent and trusting… Kraglin felt lost. He was growing attached, even if he couldn’t admit it to himself yet.

Truth be told, everyone was getting attached to the youngling, like he was a visiting puppy. When he was his adorable, smiling and shy little self, every Ravager wanted a turn to hold him. They all claimed it was to teach him something, but Kraglin knew the baby was a reminder of home and family. ‘Course when it was time for a diaper change, they were passing him back to Kraglin like a hot potato. But even the Captain, for all his hardened ways, had put Peter in his pouch already. And that wasn’t something a Centaurian just did, even if the Captain claimed it was only to make working easier. Kraglin saw through his bullshit. The Terran was under his skin in more ways than just the pouch.

Tomorrow morning, he resolved, he would talk to Yondu about Ego. They needed to be sure that Peter would be treated right. He wanted to see them other two kids on the comm.

And he wanted a damn good explanation on the mommas…

Peter’s big eyes stayed fix on Kraglin as the man thought. As if to draw his attention back, Peter spit out the bottle and whined as formula dribbled. Kraglin reached forward to grab a rag from the coffee table – thank the Stars he had started leaving rags around for just this purpose – and wiped Peter clean.

“All done there, Petey?” he asked the child softly and lifted him up as if he might stand. Kraglin held him against his chest and rearranged the rag over his shoulder. He set Peter by it and gentle tapped the boy’s back until he heard the gurgle of a burp, as he had learned to do from skimming Terran care books. “Good job,” he cooed, bring the baby back into his lap. He stroked the curls back as the green eyes stared up at him again, blinking slowly, spending longer and longer blinks closed. “Me too, boy. Let’s get back to bed,” Kraglin smirked, carrying the nodding off baby back to its crib.

Peter was set to fuss about being moved – the kid much preferred sleeping on someone than by his self, but Kraglin wrapped him snug in his soft blanket and found a clean pacifier. He popped it in the boy’s mouth and quickly his eyes started drooping again. The child nodded off fast and Kraglin felt this overwhelming sense of victory and pride… and maybe just a bit of love. He tried to shake it off, but he couldn’t pull himself away from the crib just yet. He wanted to lean down and put a kiss on the child’s head. He knew he shouldn’t. Regardless of what happened with Ego, they sure as hell weren’t keeping a baby on a Ravager ship.

That would be _insane_ … Still… maybe a small peck wouldn’t hurt. Not like anyone would have to know…

“You _softie_ ,” Yondu chuckled, startling Kraglin, nearly making him jump out of his skin.

“Cap, yer s’posed to be asleep!” Kraglin complained, blushing fully at being caught giving the baby affection.

“Sure is a cute little bugger, ain’t he?” Yondu ignored his first mate’s gripe. He stood beside him and slung a heavy arm around his shoulders. Kraglin sighed, as they both looked down on the sleeping boy.

“Too much for his own good.”

“And ours,” the Captain said.

Kraglin bristled. He loved these quiet moments of honesty between them, when they were in their quarters and didn’t need pretense about nothing. But it still surprised him to hear Yondu say that.

“I’m worried… ‘bout what Ego wants with ‘im. All of ‘em. But Pete ‘specially. He’s so… _small_. If anythin ever happened to 'im…” Kraglin stopped himself and shook his head. His body coursed with protective instincts. He flushed again at the realization he’d sooner jump in front of a blaster than let anything happen to this child. “ _Stars_ , what is wrong with me?”

“Ain’t nuthin wrong with you. I’s wonderin the same.”

“Then why’d ya take the job this go ‘round?”

“I—I dunno…” Yondu admitted with a miffed shake of his head. “I was gonna tell 'im to fuck right off. Two dead mommas I could think maybe was a coincidence, but three?... Somethin big ain’t right, Krags.”

“I’s thinkin the same, too, Cap.”

“S’pose I wanted to see it through… I dunno. Somethin in my gut said we were doin this job. But, believe me, if I’d a’ known the kid would be only a few months old…” He sighed again, eyes batting furiously at their predicament.

Kraglin let a beat pass. At least they were on the same page. He felt his gut twist again.

“Cap… we _can’t_ give 'im to Ego.” _Please don’t make me do that_ , his thoughts echoed as he waited for his mate to say something.

Yondu nodded slowly, “I know.”

The knot inside of Kraglin didn’t relax fully, because even though he was glad Yondu agreed, that left them at the next problem. “So, what we gonna do?”

Yondu let out a heavy breath and asked his mate, “What d’you wanna do?”

“His Terran family?”

“You think Ego won’t go lookin for 'im there?”

That was true. He blinked as they watched Peter sleep so peacefully. A sad smirk spread across his face. “Poor little bastard. Fast asleep, no idea two strangers is decidin his fate.”

Yondu grunted in agreement and stroked Kraglin’s arm. Kraglin nestled closer to his mate, taking strength from the warm figure beside him. After so many years alone in his life, Kraglin never took for granted the comfort of a partner.

“So if Terra’s out, and Ego’s out, we could go to Xandar, find a Boys’ Home for ‘im,” Kraglin offered, though it hurt to think about leaving him.

The Captain shook his head resolutely.

“No?” Kraglin asked, confused. It seemed the only viable option.

“Look,” Yondu said, with a bit of edge to his tone, “If that’s what ya’wanna do, then we’ll do it.”

“What’re ya worryin’ about?”

Yondu fidgeted before folding his arms, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “What say they fig’re out he’s Terran?”

“What about it?”

“How many Terrans you ever come across?”

“Little‘un here’s the first…”

“Exactly. What’s gon’ happen when they fig’re out he might be worth somethin to the wrong sort of folks?”

Kraglin understood then. His husband was worried about this boy ending up a slave, like he had been once. “A’right, no Boys’ Home,” Kraglin sighed.

“Ya want me to contact Stakar?” Yondu asked after a long silence.

Kraglin turned fully to look at him in shock. Yondu _never_ offered to comm their old captain for advice. Yondu revered the man too much to admit to needing his help. And for this? If Stakar had any idea what they’d done with Ego’s kids, they’d be _out_. Was Yondu really willing to lose the respect of his mentor and their standing among Ravagers?

Kraglin shook his head.

“I’ll do it, if ya want me to,” Yondu said.

“Stakar can never know…”

“Might be he already does,” Yondu shrugged nonchalantly. “People talk. Who knows who knows what. Might be he knows what to do with the little grub.”

Kraglin paused again, his stomach felt like a rock. “And what… what if we kept 'im?”

Yondu’s jaw nearly dropped. “Are ya nuts?!”

“’m in love with _you_ , I must be a little nuts,” Kraglin baited, but Yondu didn’t calm down. He tried again, “Look, not forever... Juss ‘til we can find someone we trust to take care of ‘im.”

“You know how long that might take?!”

“Cap…”

“And what if we never find anyone?! ‘we juss gonna play house here like this?! I know you don’t like changin them diapers!”

“Course I don’t, now lower yer voice,” Kraglin scolded, nodding to Peter. “You’ll wake 'im.”

“Shit,” Yondu sighed, rubbing his hands over his bald head. “ _Shit_.”

He stomped over to the couch and sat down heavily, letting his head fall back so he could stare blankly at their ceiling. Kraglin lingered by the crib a moment longer before following his Captain to the couch. He sat next to his lover and pulled the man into his arms, pressing comforting kisses onto his neck.

“I love ya, Krags, but I don’t think I’m daddy-material.”

“I seen you slide 'im into yer pouch. I think yer plenty daddy-material. And I’m not seein much of a choice, Cap.”

“Wish he could tell us what he wants,” Yondu sighed.

“Well… what do any kids want?” Kraglin suggested.

“They want… food n’ toys n’ somewhere warm to sleep… they want to feel safe n’ loved…”

“I think we can do all that…” Kraglin said softly.

“Yeah?”

“Sure, we got a home here, beds n’ food n’ all that. And we can swipe some kiddie toys at the next market, set 'im up with some good stuff, when he’s bigger.”

“Ya think we can keep ‘im safe?”

“Safer than he would be on Terra, or with Ego, or in a boys’ home.”

“And… _loved_?” Yondu said it like it was a foreign idea.

The love they showed each other was carnal and often possessive. And at first, it were hard for both of them, to feel like they could safely commit to each other. Took a lot of years and a lot of fucking up to work it out. And even now, they could be downright miserable to each other... How would a baby fit? Would it even be fair to the boy?

Kraglin shrugged, as he petted Yondu’s back. “Wouldn’t be hard to love ‘im,” he said simply.

Yondu sighed deeply. “S’pose it wouldn’t... And what happens when there’s a mutiny, and they go for our Terran weak spot first? We both got a lotta enemies, boy.”

“We raise 'im tough. Teach 'im to fight n’ bite n’ steal… Make a Ravager out of the pup.”

“That’s still _years_ from now.”

“Yep,” Kraglin conceded with a thoughtful nod.

Yondu raised an eyebrow at him. “Ya really want these long nights?”

“What choice do we have?” Kraglin asked again. His expression became distant as he was lost to his own thoughts, how wild it was that he had ended up on this side of the argument to keep Peter… Anytime that longing had crossed his mind before now, he had shut himself down. Now he was making the case to his Captain. He knew it was nuts… But without Terra and Xandar, what else could they do?

The Captain gave a mournful nod. “We contact Ego in the morning, get the answers we need, tell 'im the Terran died of… exposure?”

Kraglin chewed his lip as he thought. “Could've happened. Terrans are fragile, ‘specially one so small. Could be he couldn’t take the cold of space, caught a flu and went fast.”

“A’right then. Died of the flu, being so young n’ all. Agreed?”

“Agreed, Cap… And the crew?”

“Can’t hide it from ‘em. We tell ‘em Ego ain’t an option no more, and that we decided on testing out raising a thief from the ground up.”

“...’Less we can find a home for 'im.”

“’Less that happens,” Captain shrugged, clearly with zero faith that it ever would.

Kraglin let a pause pass before saying, “It ain’t the worst he could do. You n’ me had far worse, Cap.”

“I _know_ that.”

He folded his arms, deep in thought. Sure, he damn _knew_ that. Both their respective sets of parents had been as bad as they come; abusive, dismissive, cold. And that was _before_ Yondu’s sold him into slavery.

Being a Kree battle slave would have been a fate worse than death, if it weren’t for Stakar freeing him all those years ago. And his own parents, his _blood_ , had sentenced him to the Kree when he was just a kid… _Fuckers_. And Kraglin’s? Shit, they weren’t much better. Turned him lose in the slums to fend for himself with nothing and no one. Least Yondu always had food. The Kree kept their battle slaves well-fed, if nothing else, so they would be strong. But Kraglin was thin as a whip when he found him. Yondu wasn’t really sure how many years his mate had lived in a state of starvation.

They were both scarred and fucked up; Yondu thought it was why they worked well together. Neither judged the other’s traumatic quirks. But how would that rub off on a baby? One who dang certain didn’t ask for this…

Yondu looked at Kraglin’s tired face. He didn’t like seeing his partner so worn down. Sure, it was temporary and the Terran would grow, but until then? They needed to earn. They couldn’t put their ravaging on hold for a baby. 

_Fuck_ , he groaned again. This was all his damned fault. He should suffer the consequences, not Krags or Petey.

“Get to bed, you look a mess,” Yondu grunted at Kraglin. He meant to be nice about it, but that was how they were.

Kraglin flipped him off as he went. “Don’t hafta tell me twice.” His first mate collapsed dramatically onto their bed. “I’m fuckin drained,” he sighed out.

“And you wanna keep a kid,” Yondu mocked.

“Don’t want to, Cap, but don’t see no choice.”

_Fucker was right._

“Sleep on it. We’ll fig’re out more in the mornin.”

“Yep,” Kraglin yawned, nestling down. His head popped up after a moment, “You comin?”

“I need to sit for a bit, think about all this… You sleep. I’ll get Pete if he wakes up again.”

“A’right,” Kraglin spoke through a second yawn. Didn’t take long for him to pass out.

Yondu stared out the window at the haze of stars passing the _Eclector_ by. His mind started compiling lists of pros and cons, alternative ideas that he quickly found flaws in and ruled out, scenarios of danger and how they’d get through it, thinking of little green eyes… He hadn’t expected to be up at night like this… Where was his hardened resolve that the Terran weren’t his problem? Why couldn’t he just turn the kid over to Ego? Whatever the hell Ego was wasn’t Yondu’s fault, and the kid was his kid by blood. Why shouldn’t Ego have him? Who’s to say it was even Yondu’s place to get in the middle?

When he took the job, he told himself it was for the credits. But if he was being honest, it was for the fears he had ordered Kraglin to forget all those years ago, ‘bout the other two. He wanted to prove they’d done the right thing by those kids. But that swaddled little infant on Terra fractured something inside of him, when he held him in his arms for the first time and instantly knew those other kids weren’t okay.

His throat felt dry as he reckoned with the situation. Maybe he didn’t create it, but he participated in helping an evil _whatever-the-hell-Ego-was_ get his hands on children…

He didn’t often feel guilt, but tonight, it was crashing over him like waves. He bowed his head and let his proud shoulders slump, sitting deep into his shame. He knew he deserved to feel this low.

After an hour or so of the clock ticking by, his ears perked to the sound of fussing, pulling him back into the moment. He looked at Kraglin first, only to see his mate fully passed out. And then he looked at the crib, to see a meaty little arm almost waving at him. He suppressed a groan as he stood his old bones back up and went to check on the boy.

There they were, them bright green eyes again. Yondu tried not to smile. He looked down at the little Terran, who had wriggled free of his blanket and seemed to be squirming all around. He knew by the glow in the baby’s eyes, the child had slept his fill and was looking for some attention.

The little hands reached up to him and all that despair lifted away. His smile broke through as he heard Kraglin’s voice in his head echoing, _wouldn’t be hard to love ‘im..._

“S’pose it wouldn’t,” he repeated his words at Peter, before reaching down to collect the little rug-rat. “A’right, squirt, come to Daddy.”


	2. Peter Gets in Trouble: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets in a fight with another Ravager and lands in hot water with his over-stressed Captain/Daddy. Momma Kraglin does his best to sort out the pieces after, providing comfort to his baby, and repercussions to those who would hurt him. 
> 
> *TW* contains a spanking, violence and cursing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW *this chapter contains a mild spanking of a child by a parent* It's right away at the beginning, if you don't want to read it, you can skip down and still get the gist of everything. 
> 
> Also, violence and swearing.

“ _Peter_!!” he heard the Captain’s voice thunder, but he couldn’t make himself care. He was too upset and too high on adrenaline to snap out of it.

He kept on swinging his balled up little fists to the cheers and jeers of the crowd of Ravagers gathered in the Mess Hall, hooping with laughter at the scene unfolding – little seven year old Peter, the itty-bitty Terran brat, had gotten the jump on Frasher, a green-skinned humanoid creature at least five times his size with big floppy ears, a bald head, and rows of fangs inside his mouth. This was delightful for the crew. ‘Course they preferred to see Peter get his ass handed to him, which was due fast with Yondu approaching anyhow, but seeing a senior member of the crew get his nose broke by a wily kid was among one of the funniest things any of them had seen in some time. Frasher would _never_ be allowed to forget this licking by the _Eclector_ ’s tiniest brat.

“ _Gottdammit_ , boy!!” Yondu barked, lifting Peter off the other Ravager by the back of his shirt. He set him down on his own two feet, before pulling him closer, hitched up under one arm and sending a few firm slaps to his backside.

“ _Daddy_!” The boy yelped and kicked. His wide eyes caught the sneering faces of the crew, as Frasher rolled up to his side and held his bleeding nose.

Yondu continued to swat him on the seat of his pants, pulling more clamorous laughter from the crew. Peter struggled and squirmed, trying to throw a hand back to defend his stinging bottom. He bucked again, attempting to dislodge himself but couldn’t manage it, and was left to stew in humiliation.

“Daddy…!” he whined again. “Stop it!”

“The words yer lookin fer, boy, are _‘sorry Cap’n_.’”

“No!” Peter grunted with a scowl on his face. “Ain’t sorry!”

“ _Boy_!” Yondu barked, swatting harder.

Peter squeaked. He grit his teeth and tried to bear it. He wasn’t about to let himself give into tears after working so damn hard at defending himself. His mind tried to weigh out his options, but there really weren't any but to do as Yondu said. Just as he felt himself flush and the threat of tears pricking the corner of his eyes, he gave in, hurriedly sputtering, “Okay, okay! Cap, _m’sorry_!”

“Ya mean it or ya savin yerself?” Yondu asked, pausing to let his hand rest on the boy’s backside.

“Both…?” Peter replied with a wince. It was as close to the ‘right answer’ as he could give, since he still wasn’t sorry for hitting Frasher and he was a terrible liar, especially for a Ravager. Maybe sorry he got caught was close enough?

Yondu set Peter down. It was hardly the worst spanking Peter had ever got from Yondu, but it still stung and Peter fidget his legs to shake out the ache. Yondu tugged his son in close by the neck of the boy’s shirt and stared him down with a look that make a chill run up Peter’s back.

“Now listen here, ya little _runt_ ,” Yondu growled, his red eyes full of a fury Peter didn’t recognize.

It made the boy’s stomach feel like it dropped into his boots. His daddy certainly had the shorter fuse of his parents, but he hadn’t spoken like _that_ to him before. Peter’s face flooded with shame as the little irksome voice in his head said _he’s ashamed of you._

“I ain’t got the time for no more a’ yer bullshit today! Now, ya’lready had a spankin at lunch, if ya make me give ya’nother one before this day is done, I swear, I’ll give ya’ a third tomorrow for free!”

“But Cap’n, Frasher…”

“Shut yer mouth, boy, ‘fore it puts ya in deeper shit! Ain’t gonna hear no backtalk from a troublemakin brat!”

He let go of Peter’s shirt with a shove that meant _chores_.

Yondu then turned his ice cold glare at the crowd that had fallen silent and shouted at them, “Back to work, all a’ ya’ll lazy bastards!”

Peter’s bottom lip wobbled as angry tears filled his eyes. He stomped off, determined not to let anyone see him cry. He fled down the halls, not really sure where he was going just yet. All he knew was that he had to keep moving to avoid succumbing to tears. His father and captain was ashamed of him… he was a disappointment and a sorry excuse for a Ravager…

He bit his lip and tried to drown out the worries with the lyrics of one of the songs from his Terran music box. After several halls of wandering and repeating _“Ooh-oo Child, things are gonna get easier, Ooh-oo child, things will get brighter_ ” over and over again in his head, he turned the corner and saw Kraglin at the end of the hall, going over schematic plans with a two of their electricians.

He wanted to run over and bury his face in his Momma’s side but not in front of other Ravagers. Besides, he knew his parents had jobs other than being his parents. He was good about respecting his daddy’s job as Captain, mostly, but he wasn’t usually good about respecting Kraglin’s space as First Mate.

His cheeks heated up with mortification, thinking of all the times he must have barged in on Kraglin’s time and demanded to be lifted and coddled and kissed... How could they not be ashamed of him? Two brave Ravagers, with a snotty nosed Terran as a kid...

Peter hung his head and walked off. Maybe Frasher was right…

Kraglin noticed Peter from the corner of his eye. He had started talking a little faster, expecting that he was about to be side-tackled. He had heard from other crew members that Yondu had snapped at Peter about who-knows-what, and that always meant he got a sniffling little shadow for the next day or two. He wrapped it up, passing off the plans to Dmock and Sa’bar, and told them he wanted a status report by end of day. They nodded and got to work removing the access panels, as Kraglin turned about, confused.

“You seen Peter behind me?”

“Yeah, boss, he went left,” Dmock said, jerking a thumb in the direction the kid had fled.

Kraglin gave a nod of thanks and followed after his son. _That’s odd_ , he thought, eyebrow quirked up. He tried to settle himself and not worry too much. Their baby was growing up after all, maybe it was a good thing he was building thicker skin towards Yondu’s temper.

Or, better yet, maybe the fight had been blown out of proportion by the crew. He remembered a time when Yondu had shouted at Peter that he was going to have him put in the stew if he didn’t behave, and it had gotten back to Kraglin as one of the new recruits had _literally_ eaten Peter.

That mix up had led to some _ugly_ consequences… like Kraglin with a broken, murderous look on his face as he held the newest recruit at knife point, slowly describing the ways he was going to disassemble him bit by bit, before he heard Peter’s voice behind him, worriedly asking, “Momma, what’re ya doin?!” Kraglin hadn’t let Peter out of his sight for two weeks, opting to lug the boy around in a carrier on his back, despite tearful protests from a child that hated being cooped up. ‘Course Yondu thought the whole thing was hilarious, the bastard.

Kraglin marched a few circles, asking crew that he passed if they’d seen Peter, and coming up on a few dead ends. He checked his chore sheet to see what Peter’s duties were. He was meant to be helping in the kitchen stock room this afternoon, but Cook said Peter finished up this morning.

There was really one place besides the vents to check, and he sent up a silent prayer that Peter had sense enough to stay out of the vents with Yondu’s fuse being extra short this week. He went to the dormitory latrine where the crew shat and showered, and sure enough, there was his son.

“Pete?” Kraglin called as he approached.

“I’m werkin,” the boy grunted back, as he scrubbed the shower floor with a stiff brush on his knees. So much grim built up and hardened on those tiles that Peter had to use both hands and the weight of his small body to push the brush back and forth. Kraglin could tell he’d only started a few minutes ago since he had only managed to get one stall half clean.

He raised his brows at Peter’s labor. “I can see that... But I ain’t got you on bathroom duty this week. Did yer daddy tell ya to clean in here?”

Sometimes they both dolled it out as a punishment for Peter.

“Nope,” he replied, not breaking his stroke.

“Then, why ya in here?”

“I’m bein _helpful_ ,” Peter retorted, before tacking on a snippy, “ _Yer welcome_.”

“Hmm,” Kraglin nodded his head, knowing his boy. “So Daddy gave you a few swats, then?”

Peter turned around with a glare, confirming Kraglin’s suspicion. “It’s _not_ fair.”

“He’s the Captain of this ship. If you disobey him…”

“He doesn’t spank anyone else! He shouldn’t treat me like a lil’ kid anymore. I’m a Ravager. He didn’t even let me explain or nothin. I should be punished like the crew, least they get a trial...”

Kraglin snickered and shook his head at his boy. “A trial, huh? And if he did, how many times would you be out the airlock by now?”

“That’s not funny,” Peter replied matter-of-factly, turning back to cleaning.

“You gonna tell me what happened?”

“No.”

“Peter…”

“ _Kraglin_.”

Kraglin folded his arms, a bit amused by the pissy attitude, but trying to take it seriously as his parent. “I’d give your sassy ass toilet duty, but seems yer already at it.”

When Peter didn’t reply, Kraglin took him by the back of the shirt.

“ _Hey_!” he yelped, as his father hauled him over to the sinks.

“Wash yer mitts. We’re goin home.”

“But I ain’t finished!” Peter stomped his foot.

Kraglin glared back. “Trust me, little boy, you don’t wanna fight with me too. Now _wash_.”

Peter let out a frustrated groan as he obeyed, washing his fingers and palms in the sink with soap. Kraglin fetched him a somewhat dry towel out of the pile and made a mental note to get the laundry crew to switch the hand rags out. When Peter was finished, he looked up at his father with big eyes.

“C’mon,” Kraglin said, motioning to the door.

“Ain’t you got ‘First Mate’ work to do?” the boy whined, as he got hustled down the corridor toward their quarters.

Kraglin smirked, “Sure do, but that’s always gonna be second to my fussy boy.”

Peter turned scarlet from head to toe as he griped, “ _Momma_.”

“Move yer feet, Pete,” Kraglin ignored the complaint, pushing him along.

When they got to the door, Kraglin unlocked it with his palm access and ushered his son inside. The boy immediately started complaining now that they were alone, “ _You_ interrupted me when I was workin! That ain’t right!”

“Settle down, boy.”

“Daddy's always tellin me to work harder, and then _you_ stopped me! How’m I gonna show you what a good helper I can be if y’don’t let me help?!”

“Peter…”

“Crew don’t get brought home by their _mommas_ ,” Peter grumped and folded his arms.

Kraglin waited for a moment before asking, “Ya done?”

Peter threw his arms down and stomped his foot again, reinvigorated, “ _Whyyy_?! It’s not even dinner time yet! _Why_ ’d we have to come home?!”

“Y’ain’t got no idea what I’m plannin, fussy boy?”

Peter’s blush returned, “Momma, I’m not a _baby_ , you can’t call me that!”

“Sure I can,” Kraglin shrugged his shoulders. “I can call you whatever I want to. I’m yer Ma, that’s how it works.” He then pointed toward the boy’s bedroom, “Time for jammies.”

Peter’s head rolled back on his neck and let out a full chest wail, “ _Maaaa_!”

“You look ridiculous,” Kraglin scolded. “I know my well-rested boy wouldn’t be actin _like that_. Now jammies. You can put whatcher wearin back on for supper, but I don’t want it in your bed, ‘specially not after you were cleaning the stalls.”

“ _Pleeease Maaa_! I’m not a baby—I don’t need no stinkin nap!”

“Peter, I’m not askin, I’m tellin, and unless you want me to take yer music box, you’ll do as I say – _now_.”

“Why’re you n’ Daddy so _mean_ to me today?!” Peter screeched.

“You need me to count to three, little boy?”  
  


“ _Momma, please_!!” Peter’s whine was shrill and followed by exasperated tears.

Kraglin bit his lip, trying to maintain control. He didn’t want to teach his son this was okay. Hell, if Yondu were here, he knew that boy would have his bottom swatted by now and be on the way to the corner to cry it out. But that wasn’t Kraglin’s way.

Instead, he walked over to the Peter and took him firmly by the arm. He dragged the child to his own room. Peter’s strength waivered, letting fat self-loathing tears streaming down his cheeks, even as he twisted his face up to try to fight the flow. Kraglin took him towards his small bed and smoothed out the blankets. Then he sat himself down and gathered his crying boy onto his lap. As Peter gave into his sobs, they became full-chested and deep. Kraglin rocked him and petted his head.

“Yer okay, baby,” he told his son, kissing the crown of his head. He held Peter like that and let him cry out his frustrations as long as he needed. “Momma’s gotcha. Yer okay.”

After several seemingly long minutes, Peter calmed. He sniffled into Kraglin’s shirt, feeling self-conscious about the wet spot he had made. His fingers had gripped the utility shirt and were mindlessly tracing the different zippers and pockets.

“You wanna tell me what’s been goin on inside yer head today?”

“No…” he sniffled.

“Why not?”

“It’s ‘mbarrassin…”

“Baby, we’re family. You know what that means?”

Peter shook his head.

“That means sometimes I see you at yer lowest, sometimes you see me at mine, but we don’t judge each other, okay? I’m here for you, kid. You never have to go it alone.”

“Yeah,” Peter mumbled softly into Kraglin’s shirt.

Kraglin readjusted him on his lap, pulling his son closer. “A’right, spill, what’re ya feelin?”

“Sad, Momma…”

“Why sad?”

“Because… I don’t wanna be a burden no more…”

_There_ \- Kraglin thought. This was why he’d suffer through bad attitudes and temper tantrums. Because if he did it Yondu’s way, he’d never get to the root of what was bothering Peter.

“And juss what makes ya think yer a burden?”

“Cos… I can’t do what the rest a’ the crew can… I wanna be a good Ravager, Momma. I wanna make ya proud…”

“Pete, y’ _always_ make me proud. I couldn’t be more prouder’ than I already am.”

“R-really?” Peter asked, looking up at his father through wet eyelashes.

Kraglin couldn’t help but smile at him. He hugged the boy tightly. “Yeah squirt. I’m proud _every day_ that yer our boy.”

“Even when I’m bad?”

“None a’ that, Pete. Yer never bad. A little gremlin sometimes, yeah, but never _bad_... And, look, even if ya were, I’d still love ya.”

“But why?”

“Cos yer my baby. I don’t know how to explain it better than that. I’ve loved you even since before Daddy n’ me decided on keepin ya.”

“That’s not what they said, Momma,” Peter whimpered, tucking himself back closer to his Ma.

“Who said what, sweetling?”

“I got in a fight today, that’s why Daddy was mad at me…”

Kraglin hummed and stroked his hand through Peter’s curls, “Go on.”

“Frasher said… that you never meant to get saddled with a kid, that ya didn’t really want me, ya just felt guilty about a job or somethin?… He said he felt bad you guys got stuck with _me,_ that I was weak n’ small… And that people didn’t respect Daddy ‘r the _Eclector_ no-more cuz he’d gone soft… And then he said, soon as I was bigger, you were gonna ditch me planet-side if I didn’t make myself more useful round here…”

Kraglin growled softly as he kissed his son again. “So ya hit him?”

“Yeah, I got him in the nose…”

“Hope ya broke it,” Kraglin said and rubbed the boy’s back.

Peter looked up at him and raised his brows, before grinning widely. “I think I did, Momma,” he confessed, remember the purple blood running down the man’s green face. Then Peter stopped smiling. “Then Daddy spanked me.”

“Bad?”

Peter shrugged.

“Still hurt?”

“No Momma... But it was embarrassin...”

“I’ll talk to him.”

Peter sat up. “No, that’ll be embarrassin too! I wanna be tough, Momma. Daddy’ll be proud of me if I’m tough like him!” As the words settled, Peter’s head bowed as his eyes fogged with self-loathing. His next words came out somewhere between a confession and a whimper, “Even when I try, I juss end up cryin to you anyway, like a _stupid_ _baby_ … Maybe Frasher’s right…”

“Peter…”

“How’m I gonna be a good Ravager if I can’t do nothin right? I can’t cry to _my momma_ my whole life!” the boy pouted, and Kraglin had to resist the urge to laugh at his statement.

“Pete, yer bein way too hard on yerself. Yer still young…”

“But I’m _yer and Daddy’s son_.”

“So…?”

“Yer Cap’n and First Mate! I gotta be worthy of that…”

Kraglin’s chuckle broke through.

“ _Momma_."

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m not laughin at you. It’s juss… Daddy and I used to worry about bein good enough to be _yer_ parents. Y’ain’t gotta worry ‘bout bein good enough to be _ours_. And anyway, like it or not, y’are.” Kraglin reached a playful hand out to give the tip of Peter’s nose a tug. “So that’s that on _that_.”

Peter smiled as he batted Kraglin’s hand off his nose. He hugged him and said, “Love you, Ma.”

“Love you too, fussy boy,” Kraglin teased, as he wiped away the lingering salt and water on Peter’s cheeks.

Peter giggled. All the urge to fight had left him, leaving him tired and amenable. Kraglin could tell they were where they needed to be to get on with the rest of the afternoon. He put a kiss on Peter’s crown and began to help the boy off of his lap.

“Alright, like I said earlier, jammies and a rest before dinner. I ain’t gonna make ya sleep if ya can’t, but I want ya to power down, listen to yer music if it makes ya happy, just ease off for a bit, okay?”

“Okay, Momma… But what about my chores?” Peter asked, as he started changing his dirty work clothes for his soft pajamas that his Ma handed him. “I ain’t finished sweepin the stairwell yet.”

“I think Frasher can finish up fer you today. You know what, I think all yer chores are gonna be Frasher’s this week,” Kraglin said and gave his son a wink.

“I don’t think he’ll like that very much…”

Kraglin waved his hand at Peter, “Nah, after I _explain_ it to him, I’m sure he’ll see how lucky he is to be doin yer chores.”

Kraglin was right.

After he tucked his son in for a lie-down, making sure to dig out Peter's well loved stuffie and place it under his arm, Kraglin left to find Frasher. With his nose fully bandaged, Frasher was back to work with the rest of the crew cleaning in the engine room. Wordlessly, Kraglin grabbed his shoulder and threw him against the wall. He drove his knife through the man’s ear, pinning him there like he was a note on a bulletin board, causing purple blood to spurt from the fresh wound. The sound of the metal being pierced, paired with Frasher’s howling, caused everyone to stop their various tasks and gawk at them.

_Good_ , Kraglin thought, _let them all know I’m not fucking around_. _Cap ain’t the only one who can put these bastards in their place._

Kraglin turned to them and barked out, “Anyone overheard a certain ‘ _conversation’_ between our friend Frasher, here, and my boy Peter?!”

A few nervous glances were passed, answering his question that indeed some had been there.

“Well, good! Because it seems we got a few things to iron out!”

Kraglin turned back to Frasher and twisted his knife in the creature’s big ear. The man howled again but seemed smart enough not to struggle and make it worse.

“Anyone who’s got somethin to say to Peter is better off sayin it to _me_ directly. Cuz if I hear _any of you sons a’ bitches_ upset him like this fucker did, _I ain’t gonna give the ear back next time_ ,” his voice boomed loud and clear.

He lowered his tone to speak directly to Frasher, “Lucky you, I ain’t tellin the Cap’n what ya said. ‘stead, I’m givin ya all a’ Peter’s work fer the week, top a’ yer own. Trust n’ believe, I do _not_ care if it takes all night to get it done. Slip up again, Frash, and yer gonna regret it, _bad_ ,” Kraglin threatened, as he jerked the knife out of the ear, releasing the man, who held his wound and gritted his teeth in pain. Kraglin knew if he had any smarts about him, he’d be grateful for the extra work in exchange for his ear and his life.

“Any questions?!” Kraglin hollered out again. “ _No_?! Good! Glad we cleared that up!”

After passing another mean look around the room, he called out, “Spread the word!” as he turned his back and headed for the bridge.

There was still one more man on his list to sort out...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Part 2 coming up soon!


	3. Peter Gets in Trouble: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kraglin and Yondu go head to head over Peter, who hates it when his parents fight.  
> Dinner is served, and the other Ravagers share a few opinions on the events of the day.  
> Peter makes an attempt at cheering a grumpy Captain up with bad puns. 
> 
> And once a resolution is reached, a good job finally comes through - but there's a catch... 
> 
> TW for *swearing and mentions of violence*

Yondu was at his Captain's chair on the Bridge, scanning through different communications on his pad, checking to see if any of the jobs were worth doing.

His mind ran a hundred miles a minute when he reviewed posts. Kraglin swore the Captain was an accounting-savant. As he checked the various listings, he calculated their certain and variable expenses against the total payout. Not only time, fuel and supplies, but cost of repairs and medical treatments based on probability of shit going belly up, and loss of crew too. He had a total in mind fast based on his projected risks and he used that to judge whether or not they’d take job.

Kraglin was still wiping purple ooze from his blade when he approached his partner and took a respectful stance, at attention. Yondu gave him an uninterested wave of his hand, half to acknowledge his presence and half to shoo him away.

“ _Cap_ ,” Kraglin said firmly, letting him know by tone he wasn’t going anywhere.

Yondu didn’t look up from his pad, as he muttered to himself, “Course that lil brat went runnin to _mommy_ …”

He spoke up to tell his mate, “I ain’t even hit him that hard. Can’t be such a softie all the time, Krags. Y’ain’t doin him no favors.”

“Ya really wanna have this conversation out ‘ere?”

“Don’t really _wanna_ have this conversation at all.”

“Sucks fer you then, don’t it?”

“Ooh, boy, now y’ain’t doing _yerself_ no favors.”

“Y’ain’t put me through the airlock yet, Cap.”

“Not _yet_ ,” Yondu agreed, nodding his head.

Kraglin’s nose twitched. He was prepared to wait out the silence. It was the one thing Yondu couldn’t stand, someone waiting at his back, holding their breath around him. It made him feel cagey and closed in. Sure enough, Yondu’s shoulders crept up to his ears before he threw down the pad with an annoyed grunt.

“Fine! Say yer bit and make it quick! Gotta sort out our next job, _First Mate_ ,” he huffed, as if he needed to reminder Kraglin of their priorities.

Kraglin wanted to ream him out for being too harsh with Peter, but he knew that argument only ever brought the rebuttals of _he’s already livin too soft, he ain’t gonna die from one spankin, ain’t nowhere near as bad as we had,_ and so on.

“Peter looks up ta ya like ya hold the whole galaxy on yer back,” Kraglin said, not full sure where that was coming from, but it grabbed Yondu’s attention. He looked at his first mate with a somewhat uncertain, sheepish glint in his eyes.

“Tol’ me today he wants to be ‘worthy’ a’ bein _our_ _son_ , like it’s some great honor _to him_ … who fuckin knew? We raised ‘im so good, he actually believes this is a good life for a kid… Not sure how we got so lucky, Cap… And I know you think I’m here ta’ tell ya off, but I’m not. If he deserves it and you wanna handle ‘im yer way, that’s yer choice. We’re _both_ his parents and I like ta’ think we trus’ each other… But my problem is, ya didn’t get the full story ‘fore reactin, and I know yer stressed right now, but this’s gotta _stop_ … When you treat ‘im like that, you make ‘im feel like he _failed_ you. And that hurts ‘im worse than anythin else...”

“Krags…” Yondu started, then stopped, pursing his lips into a frustrated knot, unsure of what to say.

Kraglin continued, “Might not be a big problem right now, Cap, while he’s still small, but you just fuckin wait and see what it’s like when he grows up and starts second guessin the up-bringin he had.”

_That_ pissed Yondu off. He bit out, “Boy should be _grateful_! What don’t we do for 'im?!”

“He _is_ grateful. But ya can’t keep holdin that over his head and think he’s always gonna forgive ya.”

“I’m gettin _tired_ a’ this, Obfonteri,” Yondu flashed his teeth in warning.

“Me too, Cap. So why don’t you think hard on what kinda relationship you want with our son when he’s grown, cos it's comin a lot faster than ya think.”

Kraglin watched his partner stare angrily back at him. Yondu didn’t take criticism well, but he usually trusted Kraglin to tell him the truth. But this was heavy. And who the fuck did Kraglin think he was anyway… Yondu gnashed his teeth. 

“See ya in the Mess,” Yondu dismissed him coldly.

Kraglin knew it was the best he could hope for. Yondu needed time to process. He checked his watch to find it had been just under an hour since he left Peter. He still had time to finish his work before dinner. He headed off to complete his inventory on supplies for his report to the Captain on what needed restocking at the next port. 

The rest of his day was mostly normal. Word traveled fast about Frasher’s ear. The crew respected displays of strength. He knew he had earned at least a week of concise and polite responses to any questions he would be asking.

When the dinner bell rang over the intercom, Kraglin made his way back to their quarters to get Peter, who had passed out fully, despite all his earlier protests. His breaths were deep and even. There was such a steady peace on his young face, he nearly looked half his age when he slept like that. Kraglin took the moment to sit on his bedside and inspect his hands. After seeing Frasher’s fucked up mug, Kraglin realized he should have checked his son for split knuckles earlier. The little hands were pinker than usual, but seemed fine. He hoped his son realized just how lucky he was that Frasher didn’t get the chance to bite him with those demonic looking teeth.

“Hey, sleepy boy,” Kraglin said, petting his head. Peter began to stir slowly. “Ya hungry? It’s dinner time.”

Peter nodded but didn’t open his eyes. “Uhuh, Momma, hungry,” he mumbled, as he seemed to nestle down to rest more.

“C’mon, open those big green eyes for me. Time to get up, or ya won’t sleep tonight. C’mon, Petey, up ya go.” 

Peter let Kraglin guide him up and out of bed and back into his work clothes. He began to bat his eyes more and by the time he was ready, his energy had kicked back in and he was almost bouncy. Kraglin marveled at his son’s abilities to go from exhaustion to hyper activity in the matter of moments.

“Let’s go, Ma, I’m starvin!” Peter hooped, running for the door.

Kraglin let himself get dragged down the hall and into the Mess by his revived boy, who was back to his normal smiley, joking self, dancing in place rather than standing still in the food line.

Peter was relatively unbothered by the extra looks he was getting from the crew, but blushed deeply when Horuz approached them and remarked, “Heard ya kicked some butt then got yer butt kicked!”

“I guess,” Peter replied, somewhat bashful, resisting the urge to hide behind his Ma’s hip.

“Good on ya, Pete,” Horuz said, which made Peter cock his head, surprised by the encouragement. “That’s a Ravager’s life.” He gave Peter a rough and awkward pat on the head. “’sides, Frasher’s a piece a’ shit. Might be yer broken nose saved him a trip out the airlock, ‘least for the next month.”

Peter grinned. “Thanks, Horuz!”

Horuz gave a nod rather than a reply. He then nodded at Kraglin and greeted, “Obfonteri.”

“Horuz.”

“Heard y’also sent quiet the message today.”

“ _Good_ ,” Kraglin replied firmly with no kindness in his tone. He was sure Horuz was less enthusiastic about that, but the old Ravager would keep it to his self. Indeed, Horuz gave a parting nod and headed off to eat his grub.

Peter tugged Kraglin’s sleeve. “What message, Momma?”

“Jus’ First Mate stuff. Sometimes ya gotta make sure everyone knows the peckin order,” he said and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Yer next, grab a tray.”

Peter and Kraglin sat at their usual spots at the Captain’s table. It was reserved for officers and the leads of various departments, with Yondu seated at the head. Before Peter, Kraglin always sat on his right and the second mate Tullk on his left, followed by various arrangements of the others. But since Peter, Kraglin had shifted down on the bench about a foot to make space for the tiny Terran to sit in between them. It was mainly for Peter’s protection from the others, but it also helped them get a small bit of family time at meals. Not that Peter was particularly looking forward to facing his daddy again today.

Chatter was normal around the Mess hall, and amongst the senior members at the officers' table. Oblo was telling Retch stories, as Tullk and Horuz attempted a private conversation in hush tones, eyes occasionally daring to glance at Kraglin and Peter. When Kraglin shot a scowl back, they departed into conversations with others, as if that would fool him.

“Pete!” Oblo called for the kid’s attention. “How them knuckles feelin?”

“Fine.”

“Tough brat yer growin into. Who ya gonna take down next?”

“You, if ya don’t leave him be,” Kraglin said, shooting a warning glance at Oblo and the rest of them. The men chuckled and _oooh_ ’d at the threat from Kraglin.

“Aye aye, Obfonteri,” Retch grinned. “We all heard ya loud ‘n clear in the engine room!”

“Still,” Oblo pressed, ignoring Kraglin, “Let us know next time, will ya, Pete? Fights are much more fun when there’s bettin, and from what I saw, I’m ready to put a hundred units on you!”

Peter grinned from ear to ear, absolutely delighted at the praise. All the officers seemed to smile back. Tullk even reached across the table to rub Peter’s head, as he spoke to Kraglin, “Easy, Kraglin, we’re jus proud a’ the runt.”

Kraglin relented his glaring but still said to Peter, “Don’t let it go to yer head. This crowd’s as fickle as they come.”

“Yes Ma,” Peter said, trying to hide his smile as he dipped his utensil into his slop and began eating.

Conversation picked back up between the Ravagers, leaving Peter and Kraglin to gently tease and chat with each other. Peter seemed fascinated by their meal – a hearty stew of meats, root vegetables and thick egg noodles. He kept asking Kraglin how Cook made it, where they bought the ingredients from, and what kind of foods he had eaten growing up on Xandar. Kraglin tried to avoid talking about his childhood with Peter, so he opted just to tell him about dishes common to Xandar, whether he had ever eaten it or not.

About half way through dinner, Yondu arrived, looking edgy and frayed from his day. The crew paused to watch the Captain enter, wondering if he’d be making an announcement of their next mission.

He passed a red eyed glower across the room, signaling _no, there ain’t no news_ , and the crew returned to eating. Yondu marched straight to his table. Kraglin always fetched the Captain’s meals for him and set it at his place, so he never waited in line.

“Cap’n,” his table saluted him, raising their cups at his arrival.

“Men,” Yondu replied to the formality, and then sat. He ignored his son and mate and began digging in to his meal. Peter watched him and fidgeted on his seat. Kraglin elbowed the boy to keep eating his dinner, but Peter was too distracted by the silence between them to think about his food.

“Hi Daddy,” Peter greeted him shyly.

“Pete,” Yondu returned curtly, not looking up from his plate.

“ _Cap_ ,” Kraglin said stiffly, clearly not liking the lack of warmth towards Peter.

Yondu wanted to bark at him about minding his own business but instead he just continued eating nosily. He was agitated and tired, and the chow in front of him was just about the only decent thing he’d had all day. But even that hearty stew made his jaw tighten. How many more days could they eat well before they’d have to start cutting back rations until the next big pay day?

He took a break to grunt, “Stocking report done yet, Obfonteri?”

“Yes sir.”

“And you, twerp? Ya get all yer chores done?”

“ _Yes sir_ , Cap’n,” Peter followed his father’s example. He did it sometimes as a joke, but today it weren’t. He didn’t mean it to be disrespectful, just the opposite. He hoped his dad would know he was sorry and trying to be brave and tough, like he always said to be.

Yondu leveled his son and mate with a glare, like they were two scoundrels in cahoots with each other. “Ya mockin me, boy?” he asked in a low voice.

Peter’s eyes grew wide and his throat suddenly felt very dry. “N-no, I-I jus… I…”

“Baby, eat yer dinner,” Kraglin told Peter gently.

“I asked the boy a question,” Yondu grumbled at his mate.

“And he’s eatin his supper. I suggest you do the same.”

“I could do with fewer a’ yer suggestions.”

Peter looked back and forth between them. They had their fighting faces on. He hated it when his parents clashed, especially when he knew he was the cause of it. He tried to steer the conversation another away.

“Ma said I need to put more time into learnin this week.”

“As well you should,” Yondu said, reaching for his drink, not breaking the fierce stare between him and Kraglin, “ _After_ yer chores.”

“ _Yondu_ …” Kraglin gave a harsh whisper.

“That’s _Cap’n_ to you, sweet cheeks.”

Kraglin bore his teeth into a mean scowl. He made to stand up, but Yondu put a heavy hand on his shoulder and shook his head darkly.

“Easy now, I’m only teasin. What, can’t we have no fun today?”

Peter’s stomach churned. He couldn’t endure this no more. “Ma, can I be excused?”

“Ain’t that a question fer yer daddy?” Yondu snapped at the boy. Peter flinched as Yondu went on, “Ain’t _I_ the Cap’n?!”

“That plate ain’t nowhere near clean enough, pup,” Kraglin replied calmly to Peter, choosing to disregard Yondu, as he gestured to the food still left.

“Okay but… _no fighting_ ,” Peter said awkwardly, before stuffing another spoonful of stew and noodles into his mouth. 

Yondu slammed a fist on the table. “I _asked_ you a question, boy. How long m’I gonna be waitin fer an answer?”

Peter swallowed and shifted slightly closer to Kraglin’s side before speaking in a meek voice, “Course yer the Cap’n…”

“I _know_ I’m the Cap’n! I was being—never mind. _Yer chores_ , Peter!”

“Oh… I mean, I guess?”

“Ya guess?”

“Yeah, they’re handled.”

“Handled?” Yondu pushed back again.

“Ma,” Peter turned to Kraglin, unsure of what he should or shouldn’t say.

“Reassigned for now,” Kraglin said casually.

“ _Really_?” Yondu grunted and shook his head.

“Ain’t you trust my judgement?” Kraglin challenged.

“Starting ta think I shouldn’t!”

“Fine, ya got a new First in mind?”

“Don’t test me, Kraglin!”

Peter whimpered audibly, as he pushed his food around on his plate anxiously.

“We’ll talk later,” Kraglin spoke through a clenched jaw. It took all his strength not to lash out right there and then. 

“If _I_ feel like it,” Yondu barked back. He took a deep drink from his cup before grunting at Peter, “Ain’t you hear yer ma? Eat, boy.”

The table was subdued for a bit, but eventually that awkwardness broke and the other Ravagers at the officers’ table started snickering.

“Hey Cap’n, whatchu think ‘bout Obfonteri’s announcement today?” Oblo poked, crazy eyes delighted.

“What _announcement_?” 

“Were ya there or are ya gossipin?” asked Kraglin.

“We was _all_ there, and you said _spread the word_ , ‘case ya fergot.”

Kraglin hummed and took a drink as Peter looked up at him suspiciously.

“Are ya gonna fill yer Cap’n in, boy?”

“Nothin but a reminder, Cap.”

“Regardin?”

“How much I appreciate the opinions of others,” Kraglin replied with a bold smirk.

“Hmm,” Yondu grumbled, unsatisfied.

“Obfonteri let the fellas know where to file their Terran-related complaints,” Tullk supplied.

“Is’at so?”

“Ma, you said it was ‘bout peckin order!” Peter complained, flushing pink.

“Pipe down, boy,” Yondu warned him, before turning back to Kraglin. “You wanna explain?”

“I heard some shit I couldn’t take sittin down, so I did somethin about it.”

“Yeah, and now Frash’s got a pierced ear to go with that broken nose!” Retch exclaimed.

“Maybe he’ll put an earrin' in it!” Oblo added, getting a laugh out of the table.

Kraglin tried to hide his satisfied glow.

“Ya shoulda come to me _first_ ,” Yondu scowled at Kraglin.

“Figured ya had enough on yer plate.”

Yondu’s blue face sneered deeply at all of them, enjoying it way too much. “All a ya’ll, git gone!” he barked at them. He turned his angry red eyes at Kraglin, “ _You_ especially.”

Kraglin gave a faux-gracious nod before standing, and going to follow the rest of the fleeing officers, most of whom found other tables to pick up fresh conversations with. Peter made to stand and go with his Ma, but Yondu gripped his wrist and pulled him back.

“Not you. You stay.”

Peter looked at Kraglin with pleading eyes, but Kraglin shook his head. He was hardly in a position to argue with the Capt’n in the Mess at this particularly moment in time.

“You finish up your dinner with daddy. I’ll see you both at home.” With that, Kraglin walked down the aisles, feeling the eyes on him, as he made his exit from the Mess Hall. He had better shit to do than socialize.

Peter shifted on his seat and sent reluctant gazes at Yondu, who had resumed eating. Peter felt nervous with all the fighting going on today, but he figured his parents cheered him up whenever they could. Maybe it was his turn to cheer his dad up.

“Um, Daddy? Ya wanna hear a joke?”

Yondu grunted in acceptance of the peace offering.

“Why couldn’t the pony sing?”

“The fuck’s a _pony_?”

“Oh… never mind… Wait, lemme try again.” Peter cleared his throat and forced a smile. “How does the moon cut its hair?”

“Never seen a moon with hair, sprout.”

“ _Daddy_ ,” Peter whined.

“Ugh, _fine_. How?”

Peter giggled before answering and then tried to keep a straight face when he answered, “ _Eclipse it_!”

Yondu’s unimpressed glare broke into a snort and a genuine smile. Peter looked so damn proud of himself, he had to give it to the boy. He nodded his head and ruffled his son’s hair.

“Nice one, kid.”

“Made ya smile!”

“Yup. Don’t tell anyone,” Yondu warned him teasingly. Peter smiled again like a huge weight had come off his shoulder. It was nice to see his kid so happy. He felt bad to break it, but they had something he needed to address. He cleared his throat and started, “Pete, you know why I was mad atcha’ earlier?”

Peter’s smile faded and he became gloomy, “Cos… I made Frasher bleed?”

Yondu shook his head. “I don’t give two shits if that ol’ bastard bleeds. He’s a prick. Try again.”

“Cos… You had to stop whatchu were doin, and yer busy?”

“Well, I’ll grant today wasn’t a good day, but that ain’t why either.”

“I don’t know, then.”

“Hey Keffer,” Yondu summoned a pink tinted Xandarian from another table and snapped his fingers. The man obliged, coming over and giving a nod of his head.

“Cap’n.”

“Show my boy whatcha got from yer brawl with Frasher.”

If the man was uncomfortable or embarrassed, he didn’t show it. He just pushed up the sleeve of his red Ravager coat to show a gruesome looking scar. Mangled up flesh with skin stretched and scarred from being stitched back together from what looked like a hundred jagged gashes.

Peter’s eyes went wide as Yondu gave the man a nod of thanks and dismissed him. Yondu cleared his throat, pulling Peter’s attention back to himself.

“Here’s why, boy. Yer too small to be fightin with my crew. It’s a miracle you wound up on top today. If that fellar let ya have it, ya coulda’ found yerself in the med bay with a very upset Momma-hen loomin over you, and me chuckin some idiot out the airlock. And, not only would we have to deal with Kraglin, but it’s a bad look for me to let you beat up on my men, tiny as ya are. That sorta behavior will only lead to resentment, and that’ll put you and the entire ship in danger, ‘specially if they’re feelin bold enough to mutiny. So, what ya need to understand, Petey, is you fightin with my crew is a lose-lose.”

“But Daddy… does that mean… I’m not in the crew? I’m not a Ravager?” Peter asked, big eyes looking worriedly up at his dad.

“No son,” Yondu reassured him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “What it means is, yer different from the others. Like it er not, ya’lways will be, cos yer my boy. It comes with the territory. Do ya’understand?”

Peter nodded solemnly. “Sorry for gettin in danger, Daddy.”

“Thank you... And, lookit, fights happen. Jus try to avoid em, and if ya really _really_ hafta, make sure me or yer momma are there as back up, least til yer bigger. Okay, boyo?”

“Yes Daddy.” 

“ _And_ ,” he said reluctantly, “I’m—I jus want to say... Next time, I’ll try to hear ya out before reactin. I know that prick musta said somethin real shitty to ya, and I’m glad yer momma handled it. I'm sure I'da done worse.”

Peter thought about it and nodded his head, before his eyes began glinting. “Do ya think they was right about him wearin an earrin?”

Yondu chuckled. “We’ll see, boy. Ya done with yer supper?”

“Uhuh,” Peter nodded.

“Alright,” Yondu said, finishing his meal off and standing up. “Let’s go home. Yer due a bath, and I need to settle up with yer momma.”

Peter jumped up and gladly followed his dad back to their quarters, pestering him the entire time with _aw daddy, do I really need a bath? I had one yesterday! Can’t we do it tomorrow? I’m not even that dirty! Please, daddy! Aw c’mon…_

Once Peter was cleaned, cuddled and put to bed, Yondu sat in his chair, drinking his good whiskey, going over his messages, until one caught his eye... A job, a _good_ job. Kraglin was laid out on the couch, drinking his preferred gin, enjoying some quiet, when Yondu cleared his throat.

Kraglin looked over. “Cap?”

“Read this,” Yondu said, passing over the datapad.

Kraglin sat up and scanned over the job outlined on the pad. Decently low risk, exceptionally high paying, and only a few jumps away. They’d be working again by the end of the week.

He looked back at Yondu’s troubled face. “Looks real good, boss.”

“Yep,” he sighed.

“Ain’t it good?”

“It is good…”

Kraglin narrowed his eyes, before venturing, “Is it from Stakar?”

Yondu gave a slow, grumpy nod.

“He’s sent us work before, in good times and bad.”

“That ain’t it,” said Yondu.

“Then what?”

“This one comes with a catch…” Yondu sipped his whiskey again, before explaining, “We gotta let _Aleta_ on board for an inspection.”

Kraglin couldn’t speak for a moment, as surprise filled his eyes. That was _problematic_ , to say the least. Both of their gazes darted to the closed door of Peter’s small bedroom.

“… _Shit_.”

Yondu hummed in agreement. “Deep shit.”


	4. Aleta's Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aleta lands on the Eclector and a curious Terran just can't stay hidden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! this is on the longer side, and I might re-write it a bit down the line to make it tighter, but I wanted to get some opinions! 
> 
> TW: swearing / mentions of death / loss of children

Captain Aleta Ogord arrived in the hangar not two full cycles later.

Yondu had gathered his officers and stood at the ready to greet her. The minutes of her approach and landing felt impossibly long, in stark contrast to the days prior, rushing around the clock to get the _Eclector_ ready for their guest. Between Stakar’s initial message and the alarm of her arrival, there had been no time for Yondu to consider what it would really feel like to see her again - _Aleta_ , after all these years.

She had been Stakar’s First Mate when they liberated Yondu from his deplorable past life. She had watched him grow from a subservient, skittish ex-slave into his own free man, defiant, fearless, full of piss and vinegar, and a chip on his shoulder a mile wide. He had so many firsts with them. He learned to hold his drink, play cards, and fight without killing someone; He learned to chart the starts, negotiate contracts, and eventually to begin to trust again; though truth be told, he never fully trusted anyone until Kraglin.

Back when she knew him, he was a wild teenager. She discouraged Stakar’s interest in his growth, viewing him as a permeant liability. Yondu didn’t mind then. Reckless was exactly how he wanted to be known. No job was too big or too dangerous. In fact, the worse the odds, the more he wanted Stakar to choose him, so he could prove himself - that for all his fuck ups along the way, rescuing him had been worth it. Turned out he never had to convince Stakar of that. He had always seen more in Yondu.

Aleta came around, after their joint mission – the one they didn’t talk about. When she called on him, when she _needed_ him, he was prepared to die for her. And though she never spoke her gratitude, she was forever attached to him. When she subsequently became a Captain, she asked him to come with her as her First Mate. He didn’t tell her the reason he said no was to stay with Kraglin, but he figured she knew, considering the contempt she showed Kraglin after.

Yondu thought about how different he had been back on that mission with her. It hardly felt like he was the same Centaurian. He couldn’t see taking those kinds of risks again. His life was so changed - not only as a Captain, but a husband and father. 

He never thought he'd be able to hide from the other Ravager clans _forever_ , but a few more years would have helped. Then Peter could have passed as a young recruit and not needed to be hidden away.

Distraught was an understand at how Peter handled the news that he would be confined to his room during the visit. He got hysterical, crying and asking what he’d done wrong, and apologizing incessantly, promising to be good. It was a punch in the gut to watch that melt down, and neither Yondu nor Kraglin had been able to get him to understand that he weren’t in trouble and this wasn’t punishment.

A long, _long_ day of running around, preparing the ship had ended in their quarters with a weeping child going back and forth between the lap of whoever he deemed less the ‘mean one’ in that moment. They ended the night with Kraglin sprawled on the couch, more depleted than usual, barely even managing the will to finish his drink, as Yondu sat in his armchair, struggling to get his whiskey to and from his mouth with a spent little Terran passed out on his lap, sticky tears still coating his face. Peter would have been in bed hours earlier, but after all the crying, Yondu decided to let the boy lay there longer than usual, to ensure he stayed asleep when he did finally move him, and… because part of him worried maybe this would be the last semi-normal night for his family, if _she_ found out what they had done.

Here she was. Aleta Ogord.

The _Eclector_ had never looked better. And he hadn’t felt worse in a long fuckin’ time.

“Yondu Udonta,” She called out, voice powerful and unbending, as she stomped down the ramp of her ship. She wore dark green, the color of her Ravager clan and her inky hair flowed to her shoulders. Behind her tailed two young officers Yondu didn’t recognize.

“Aleta Ogord,” he replied, saluting her first, followed by a mass salute from his officers, the noise of fists pounding their chests in two fast beats was crisp and well-executed.

She saluted in response.

Aleta marched until she was directly in front of Yondu. First she passed a calculating gaze over him, then to each of his sides, assessing Kraglin and Horuz, before barely skimming the rest. Her eyes returned to Yondu.

“Dismiss them,” she spoke.

Yondu didn’t hesitate, letting out a loud whistle. “Back ta work!” They scattered wordlessly, returning to their posts and various tasks, except for Kraglin and Horuz, who remained at the ready. “Evaluators?” he asked with a nod to her crew.

She introduced them, “Pod and Mycenex.”

“Horuz, show them around,” Yondu ordered.

“Cap’n,” Horuz said with a salute, before gesturing the new two follow him.

Aleta turned disdainful eyes on Kraglin. “ _Dismissed_ ,” she hissed.

Kraglin gave a bow of his head and took his leave. He was surprised she didn’t want the full rundown first but grateful for the time away. It gave him a chance to go to the kitchens and wrangle up some food for Peter. It would still be too early for the boy’s dinner, but at least if he left him with snacks, the kid wouldn’t have a reason to try and stick his nosey head out of their quarters, _if_ he could even break the locks. Besides, Kraglin would take any excuse to check on him after that fit last night.

Once it was just Aleta and Yondu in earshot, she glowered at him, resentment clear in her deep brown eyes. He had to purse his lips to not react as she let him stew in the silence she knew he hated.

He broke the standoff, “Welcome aboard.”

“Have not seen you in _years_ , Udonta.”

“Yeah, I…”

“ _Eight -_ _years_ ,” her voice was laced with a growl, one that reminded him quickly no excuse would cover that period of time.

Yondu gave a tip of his head. “It’s good to see ya now, Aleta.”

She lifted her chin. “I should hope so... Perhaps I’ll be dead before the next eight years pass.”

“Aleta…”

“You _will_ comm and visit more often,” she decreed, nose wrinkled with a threat of violence.

Yondu had to pause as he tried to gauge her. He decided to laugh, “You got me flattered! Didn’t realize how much ya missed an old blue bastard.”

Her eyes crinkled and she looked for a moment like she might smile, but the smile never came.

“ _Whiskey_. You’re pouring.”

Yondu grinned with all his teeth before gesturing for her to lead the way to the bridge.

\----

Kraglin left for the bridge, the door locking behind him once more. Peter frowned. Not that his Ma had been particularly pleasant during their brief visit – he had been stern and strict and reminded Peter, _under no uncertain terms_ , that he was to stay put. He didn’t like what Kraglin was saying, but he still preferred being lectured to being alone.

It felt weird to be trapped here, especially since he wasn’t in trouble, as they kept saying. And he _badly_ wanted a look at their visitor. He had never met another Ravager Captain! He knew there were 99 clans, but Daddy always steered far clear of the other ships.

He tried to cheer himself up with one of the movies Yondu had bought for him. He knew it was bribery – to suddenly cave after all the begging he had done and buy Peter not one, but _all_ of the Xandarian movies he was asking for. That was his attempt to make lockdown fun for Peter. _A movie marathon_. On any other night, it would have been an indulgence far beyond anything he was used to, but now? Knowing there was somewhere he wasn’t allowed to be was making him all itchy and restless. He could hardly focus on anything.

A couple hours passed, and dinner was delivered by one of the crew through a slot on the door. That made his jaw dropped in outrage. He thought at least his Momma would have come by again. Now he really felt like a prisoner, having his meals passed under like this was a cell.

_Space this!_ He grabbed the tray and hurled it. His slop splattered on the wall, the bowl shattered into a hundred tiny shards of ceramic and the plastic tray fell with a loud clatter to the ground, breaking in two. The food drippled down the newly decorated wall and began to seep onto the floor.

Peter’s his stomach flipped as he realized what he’d done - Wasting food was a serious offense to his parents. He was _so_ screwed. When they saw this, he was gonna be in a world of trouble… But, something about that felt comforting and he couldn’t quite say why…

_except_ …

Now he was in trouble no matter what he did!

He put his shoes on and went to the door, testing the lock. There was no getting out that way. He turned his eyes up to the vents and smiled.

\----

Peter got himself out of the vents in the hallway and dusted himself off. He planned to head to the Mess hall. There at least he could eat with other Ravagers and maybe hear some stories about their visitor.

When he heard voices of other Ravagers, his self preservation kicked back in and he suddenly remembered they’d all been instructed to be on the lookout for Peter. _Damn_. He looked up to the vent he had dropped out of and cursed his own stupidity. It had hurt on the way down and it was far too high up for him to reach.

He had to run, or else he was gonna get scooped up and put back in his room. That would be a lot of extra trouble for nothing.

He knew the ship like the back of his hand, and made it a few hall ways without being spotted, ducking into lockers, empty conference rooms, or even just quietly walking behind the biggest guy around. He felt almost gleeful at mastering the art of going unnoticed. 

“ _Peter_?!”

He skidded to a halt, shoulders up to his ears as he cringed.

Horuz approached him fast and grabbed him strongly by the arms, shaking him as he barked, “Are you stupid, crazy, or _both_?!”

“N-no, I jus—I dropped my dinner and I needed…” Peter stammered, trying to pull away from the angry Second Mate’s grasps.

“Cut the crap!” Horuz snapped, bringing his face close to Peter’s so he could stare him down. “You know what’ll happen to us, _all a’ us_ , if she finds you?”

“I-uh, no?” Peter’s voice cracked with nervousness.

“You could get us all kicked outa’ the Ravagers! And fer what?! Cuz yer too damn spoilt to listen to the men that saved yer life?!”

“I—I didn’t know…”

“You really think they’d ever ask ya to do somethin that weren’t vitally important?! D’you use yer head at all?!”

“M’sorry…” he whimpered, trying to hold back tears.

“Let’s _go_ ,” Horuz rumbled, face still set in a sneer.

He grabbed Peter by the hand to drag him back to the Captain’s quarters, when they both heard Yondu’s loud voice, rattling off facts and reports about the _Eclector_. A chill went down Peter’s spine as his stomach fell into his boots. Horuz knew they couldn’t make it away quick enough.

He whispered fast, “Ya work here, yer one a’ the crew. Salute, but _don’t_ make eye contact, maybe she won’t see ya.”

Yondu turned the corner with Aleta by his side. Kraglin and two strange faces trailed behind them. Yondu shut up mid-sentence when he saw Peter but he tried to keep his face blank. Kraglin wasn’t quiet as subtle, since he was in the back and no one was looking at him. He turned his face up to the ceiling to find composure.

“Horuz,” Aleta said but her eyes fell to Peter. He wanted to stare at her, but he forced himself to bow his head. “We were wondering where you went.”

“Overseein the shift change, Cap’n Ogord,” Horuz replied, calm as if nothing was wrong. He was by far doing the best job of playing cool. Yondu remained uncharacteristically mute while Kraglin couldn’t stop fidgeting. Peter wasn’t sure which one wanted to kill him worse.

“Very good, Second Mate. And, _who_ do we have here?”

Peter looked up at the darkly feminine voice above his head and then his mouth gaped. She was so interesting looking, but beyond that, her presence felt like power. Something dark and mysterious radiated off of her. It was almost overwhelming. If he hadn’t known she was a Captain, he might of ask if she was a god.

“This is – _Quill_. Peter Quill, Junior Ravager. Salute the visiting Cap’n, boy,” Horuz said.

Peter saluted fast, almost proud at being called a Junior Ravager, but ducked his head again.

Aleta’s eyes twinkled at the display. “Looks a bit _young_ to me.”

“Naw, it’s jus his species. Sort of a dwarf version a’ Xandarians. Boy’s real handy in tight spot... Now, as I was sayin,” Yondu tried to pull the group forward, but Aleta raised her hand to halt him.

“Hello, Mr. Quill,” she said, peering deeply into the boy’s green eyes. The serious attention made him fidget as he tried to be brave and also not smirk. It was half nervous jitters and half how funny it was to him to hear someone call him _Mr. Quill_.

“Pleased ta meet you, Cap’n Aleta,” Peter replied in a cheery voice, hoping that would make her believe him, and gave her a toothy smile. Kraglin and Yondu caught eyes nervously. 

“A’right, back ta _work_ , Quill,” Yondu grunted, gesturing down the hall in the direction of their quarters, hoping Peter could take the hint to shut the hell up and go home.

“And what kind of work do _you_ do?” Aleta asked skeptically before Peter could flee.

“Well… I help in the kitchen and I clean…”

“Surely larger crew members can clean faster and more efficiently than one so _small_.”

“Oh… Yes, Cap’n Aleta, they can, but… No one else can crawl in n’ clean the vents so…”

“ _You_ clean the vents?” her voice was borderline shocked and appalled.

“Yes, Cap’n Aleta! Cap’n Da— _’Donta_ likes the whole _Eclector_ extra clean,” Peter gave a nod and wanted to sigh with relief for catching himself.

“Show me,” Aleta replied, with a challenge in her voice as she folded her arms across her chest.

“Sh-show you?” Peter wavered.

She nodded and pointed to the vents.

Peter glanced at his daddy, whose stony face looked ready to explode. Kraglin behind him was barely containing himself, pursed lips moving side to side. Peter looked back to Aleta and smiled again. “Happy to, ma’am, but I ain’t got my ladder or tools right now.”

Aleta turned to Kraglin and gave a nod. “Obfonteri, help Mr. Quill into the vents.”

Kraglin sucked his teeth before nodding and stepping forward. The look in his eyes made Peter feel a foot tall. He grasped the boy by the hips, fingers gentler in Peter’s sides than the boy was expecting.

“ _Stop_ ,” Yondu growled.

“Something wrong, Udonta?” Aleta asked with a smug inflection in her voice.

“No, but I ain’t a fan a' dick-measurin on _my_ ship with _my_ crew! He ain’t got his tools, he ain’t goin in the vents – that’s that! You run yer ship different, fine by me, but that ain’t how we do things here.”

Kraglin relaxed his grip on Peter. “I’ll see him back to the other Junior Ravagers…”

“I don’t think so,” Aleta replied. “I concede this is yer ship, Udonta, but I refuse to have my time wasted by a _Junior Ravager_. Obfonteri and Horuz ain’t completed the walk thru with Pod and Mycenex yet.” She looked back to Peter and said, “You know your way to the Mess hall, whelp?”

Peter nodded.

“Then _get_ ,” her voice was cold. “You all, pair up and finish the inspection. And Yondu, _a word_ ,” she growled. When no one moved, she gnashed her teeth. “ _Goodbye_ , Mr. Quill. _Dismissed_.”

Peter didn’t waste a moment, turning to flee, headed up hall, as the officers reluctantly paired up and ventured down hall toward the engine room, leaving Yondu and Aleta alone again. _Mostly_. Instead of running all the way home like he shoulda’, Peter let his nerves get the better of him, and hid in an empty locker around the corner. 

“ _Udonta_ ,” Aleta’s voice shook with anger, causing the Centaurian to grimace.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied involuntarily. The whiskey from earlier mixed with Aleta’s presence affected him, sending him back to the mindset of when he was just a newly rescued ex-slave and she was the indomitable First Mate on Stakar’s ship. He turned to face her and sunk deeper into his memories by the way she looked at him – arms crossed over her chest, ready to fire off a line of questions to which she already knew the answer.

“Have you been _lying_ to me?!”

He tried to shake himself out of his old posture. He was a bloody _Captain_. She couldn’t intimidate him into giving himself away anymore. He wasn’t her charge and he didn’t answer to her.

She flashed her teeth. “I asked you a question and I expect an answer.”

“And I don’t know _what_ yer talkin about. Ya come here to see my ship and I showed you. Ya seen it’s in good workin order. Ya seen we run a tight crew. What could I be lyin about?”

“The _junior ravager_. ‘A dwarf version of Xandarians’?! You think I don’t know my galactic species? You think I don’t recognize a _child_ when I see one?!”

“Aleta…”

“You can call me _ma’am_ for the rest of this conversation.”

“I’ll call ya _Cap’n_ if ya want, and you can call me _Cap’n_ too. Don’t get too big for yerself on my ship.”

She licked her teeth and glowered, a nonverbal way of saying _wrong answer_.

“Explain the child, before this gets ugly,” her voice was a threatening purr.

“What, ya gonna call Stakar on me?”

“Never needed his help to handle _you_.”

“Aleta…”

“ _Answer me_. What are you doing with _a child_ on board?!”

He clenched his jaw, trying to think of something fast. “Fuck it,” he growled. “It ain’t what it looks like.”

“And what do you think it looks like?”

“That… we’re recruitin too young.”

“No,” she spoke, “It _looks_ like ya didn’t take Stakar’s warning seriously when he told ya not to take those escort jobs and ended up with left over cargo.”

Yondu’s eyes twinkled as he gave an insubordinate shrug of his shoulders. “Well, I guess if ya wanna get _technical_ , that ‘bout sums it up.”

“We don’t deal in children!” Aleta snarled at him. 

Yondu bore his teeth back, ready to fight. “Does it look like I got a _buyer_ for him?! He ain’t fer sale! And, let me tell you, that kid’s far safer here then he was where we got him! Did he look _starved_ , _dirty_ or _scared_ ta you?!”

Her shook her head in disgust, nose wrinkled into a scowl. “I never thought _this_ was what you were hiding.”

“I ain’t hidin nothin!”

“I always knew you were! Why else were you suddenly taking low-level jobs on the outer rim if not to hide something?!”

“So now what?! Ya gonna tell on me?”

“If I do, we both know what’ll happen.”

“You expectin me to beg?”

She grimaced in disgust, “Stars, I hope _not_!”

Yondu chuckled darkly as he shook his head. He didn’t have anything left to say. The silence sat on them for a few long moments. 

“Udonta, you’ve put me in a tough position…” she broke the silence, almost gently. He looked at her face and could see the internal struggle. She opened her mouth and then shut it.

Yondu thought about his pride and his crew. He hated himself as he said, “He doesn’t need to know.” It was as close to begging as he could do.

“I need to think about my answer,” she replied, avoiding his eye contact. “Give me one hour. Then I will meet you on the bridge.”

Yondu couldn’t force a reply. His throat was too dry and his head felt too heavy. Instead he just forced a nod and left. 

Aleta paced the halls, her boots were the only noise for a while, as Peter trembled inside the locker. He had watched his Daddy pass, looking worse than he’d ever seen the man look. It nearly brought Peter to tears that he had caused that. All cuz he was _bored_. Peter felt crushed, hating himself. But he was too afraid to go home just then. What if they hated him? As his mind raced with a thousand different scenarios of his parents reactions, he didn’t noticed the boots approaching his hiding spot.

“You shall come in handy, little mouse,” Aleta said, pausing by Peter’s position.

He gasped as she turned and stared directly at him through the slits in the door. With a quick motion, she tore the locker open and grabbed Peter, one arm secured him to her chest, the other quickly moved to cover the boy’s mouth before he could scream.

“No talking just yet, Mr. Quill. I’ll let you know when we’re ready to talk.”

Peter tried to thrash, panicked in the clutches of the woman who could make an entire ship walking on eggshells and ruin everything his parents had ever worked for. He tried to yell out - for Kraglin, Yondu, _anyone_ \- but Aleta’s grip was unyielding.

Tears poured down his face as she carried him unseen down the hall, before dipping into an unoccupied conference room, one Peter had used earlier in his own sneaking. She secured the lock before letting Peter go. He pounded on the metal like a scared animal, even though he knew it was no use.

He was trapped. A nervous whimper left his lips, “ _Mama_ …”

Aleta gapped at him, eyes going wide. “ _What_ did you say?” she asked, grabbing his arm to turn him to her.

Peter tried to pull out of her grasp as he trembled. “ _Mama_ ,” he blubbered. “I want _my momma_!”

“Your mother is on the _Eclector_?”

“Uhuh,” Peter nodded tried to wipe his eyes, but the tears came faster than he could clear them away.

Something moved in Aleta’s chest, something she hadn’t felt in _years_. She swallowed as her eyes studied him, a sweet little boy, completely lost to tears, asking for his mother… Flashes of her children ran through her mind…

“Mr. Quill… Peter… Do you prefer Peter?”

“Uhuh,” he sniffled and nodded. “Please let me go!”

“I’m not going to hurt you. I swear it,” she said, holding her hand to her chest.

“Ya—yer not?”

“No, Peter… I am— _sorry,_ if I scared you. It’s been a long time since I was around _children_ ,” the word came out like it left a sour taste behind. “I only intended that we could speak privately. I know Udonta has been holding you here for some time, forcing you to work for him. I didn’t realize you had your mother with you…”

“Momma _and_ Daddy.”

“Both of your parents are here?”

“Uhuh.”

“And… how long have you all been here? Are they Ravagers, or cargo?”

Peter’s tears stopped as he became confused. “Not cargo, _Ravagers_. And… I dunno. S’long as I can remember? And Daddy says I’m seven, so at least that many years.”

Aleta’s mouth trembled. She felt the urge to smile, but she denied it.

“Is Captain Udonta kind to you? How often does he force you to clean the vents?”

“Well…” Peter hesitated as he rocked on his feet. “You weren’t s’posed to find out ‘bout me so I kinda’ lied? I’m not s’posed to go in the vents, or else Daddy gets mad. Sometimes I do anyway,” Peter confessed, cheeks flushing pink thinking about what a bad son he’s been today. 

“I’m glad to hear the vents was a lie…”

“Sorry fer lyin to ya,” Peter cut her off to add. His tears had stopped completely but his cheeks and eyelashes were still wet. He tried to smile at her to show he meant his apology. She seemed baffled by him.

“You do not have to apologize. I am not angry…”

  
“Momma says, I hafta say sorry if I lie though.”

“Your parents sound like fine creatures,” Aleta said and waved a disinterested hand at him, hoping to end the conversation about them. “Now tell me about the Captain. How does _he_ treat you? Or the other officers? Obfonteri? Horuz?”

“Not everyone likes me, I know that. But they’re scared enough of Daddy usually not to bother me too much…”

“Focus, Peter, _the Captain_ ,” Aleta tried to corral his rambling.

“And Daddy’s not mean to me. Well, not _always_ mean. He’s a lot nicer to me than he is to the rest of the crew, I think.”

“ _Peter_!”

“Yes, Cap’n Aleta?”

“I’m asking you about _Udonta_ right now – and _only Udonta_.”

Peter nodded earnestly, “I know and I told you.”

“All you’ve told me about is your father and…!” As the words left her mouth, her eyes narrowed in thought. “… _Wait_.” Her face changed into one of shock and concern, “Are you telling me that Yondu Udonta _is_ your ‘daddy’?”

Peter scratched the back of his neck. “Um, yeah?” he said awkwardly, as if it should have been obvious the whole time.

“And that means… Oh _stars,_ ” she groaned, covering her eyes for a moment. “Is Obfonteri your _‘mama’_?”

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded his head.

Aleta went to one of the chairs and sat down just short of collapsing.

“Are you okay, Cap’n Aleta?”

“I will be,” she grumbled, massaging her temples with her elegant, long fingers.

“Do… you wanna a hug? Sometimes when I don’t feel good, they help. Or I could tell you a joke? Sometimes Daddy likes my jokes…”

“You are very kind, Peter, but I am not in the mood to laugh right now.”

Peter wrung his hands nervously, unsure of how long she would remain in her trance. After a few moments, he blurted out, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

  
“Are—are you Daddy’s Momma?”

  
A smirk broke out on Aleta’s face. “And what makes you ask that?”

“Well… cos ya scolded him like my Ma scolds me when I’m not behavin good.” Peter then grinned as he added, “And I could tell he was nervous!”

“Not used to seeing your daddy nervous, are you?”

“No ma’am… So are ya?”

“I’m— _as_ close to a mother as he has.”

Peter narrowed his eyes as he thought, before it seemed to click for him. “Oh! Is Daddy ‘dopted like me?”

“I suppose he is.”

“Does that mean Stakar is his daddy?”

“Sure,” she said, trying not to laugh at just how much Yondu would _hate_ that.

“Can I call you my grandparents??”

Aleta chest fell as a wave of unexpected grief washed over her. _Her babies_ , _all three of em, gone…_ She had hope for grandchildren once. She hadn’t let herself even think of it since the incident.

“Yes Peter,” she spoke, distant from herself. She refixed her eyes on the adorable little Terran before her and gave him a gentle smile. “You can call me _Nana_.”

“Awesome!” Peter jumped with joy, grinning from ear to ear. “So, _now_ can I hug you?”

She opened her mouth to object, but couldn’t come up with a reason. She closed her mouth, studied this happy boy. She opened her arms to him and he didn’t waste of moment.

Aleta held him loosely at first, feeling terribly uncomfortable with all this. But Peter took her looseness as a signal to get closer. He snuggled into her with all the warmth he had, all but crawling into her lap as he pressed his face into her neck and squeezed her with his arms. Aleta’s lower lip trembled for a moment, before something snapped in her. She tightened her arms around Peter. Her arms remembered the way she had held her children. She nuzzled him deeply, squeezing him with a sudden warmth throughout her that she had not felt in years. It broke her like an overloaded dam. All the missing and longing and aching became a renewed love. She held Peter somewhere between grief and forgiveness. And in that moment, she fell completely in love with him. Peter, her _grandbaby_.

“I would move the stars for you,” she whispered the words she used to tell her babies, and felt for the moment like they were smiling down on her.

\---

Yondu had stopped by his quarters on the way to the bridge to find Peter. He knew he should be mad. He expected it himself, that he’d be cussing and howling and doling out punishment. But that weren’t how he felt. He just wanted to see his son and maybe sit with him a while. Yeah, Peter’d done something he knew he wasn’t allowed to and Yondu was fairly sure he’d been in the vents too. It was probably a veritable laundry list of rule breaking.

But it wasn’t Peter’s fault they were in the mess, so putting the blame on him didn’t feel right. Yondu created this. This was his fault from the moment he took the escort jobs. He couldn’t regret them, because it gave him his boy, but whether the other Ravagers ever found out – that was on him. Not a kid who was panicked and edgy. He wanted to hug his son. And later maybe drink himself stupid rather than sleep tonight. And that was about all the energy he had.

He unlocked the door and called out, “Pete?” When there wasn’t a reply, he sighed loudly. “Ya can come out, I ain’t gonna bite... C’mon out, I know yer upset.” Still nothing. He looked around a bit and called a gently, “Pouchlin?” If that didn’t work, he wasn’t sure what would.

He turned again and saw the tossed food. He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. _Damn runt_.

“A’right, I seen the mess. Ya can’t be hidin anythin else, can ya? So come on out, Pete, I just wanna talk to ya… Sprout?”

His mouth tightened into a straight line across his face, as he realized his kid weren’t in here. He grabbed his datapad and checked his boy’s tracker. It was offline... And Aleta was out there, on the prowl, deciding all their fates. Yondu’s pulse jumped, as he took off running down the halls of the _Eclector_ , franticly searching for his son.

He made two full laps of all the corridors, his coat flapping behind him, by the time he finally heard, “ _Daddy_!” He skidded to a halt and wheeled around. It hurt to admit how bad he needed to hear that. “ _Daddy_!” Peter cried out again as he ran to meet his father’s embrace.

“Peter! I been looking all over for you!” Yondu half dove to take his son in his arms.

Peter was crying into his chest immediately. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Daddy! I shoulda’ listened, I was _so_ bad! Please don’t hate me, I’ll be better from now on, _super huge all-the-way_ promise!”

Yondu hushed him as he petted his big hand through Peter’s hair. “Apology accepted, pouchlin, now shhhh.”

Peter leaned away from his father as if he had to check and make sure it was _really_ him after that uncharacteristically fast acceptance of an apology. Yondu gave the boy a tired smile and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away the boy’s tears.

“But Daddy, it’s all my fault and…”

“You didn’t listen too good, Pete, but ain’t none of what might happen yer fault, you hear me? Whatever happens, that’s daddy’s fault. I don’t want you thinkin for even a second any a’ this is cos a’ you. The problem ain’t that yer here. The problem is what daddy did ta get ya here. Does that make sense to you?”

“But… if I’d a’ listened better, no one would ever know…”

“Naw, that ain’t true. Mighta been they’da found out another way, or jus later on down the line. You didn’t create the mess we’re in. I won’t have you shoulderin that guilt. You understand me?”

Peter sniffled but nodded. “Still sorry, Daddy.”

“I know,” Yondu said, pulling the boy back into his chest. “I’m jus glad yer okay. Ain’t never gonna let nothin happen to you.” He stood up, keeping Peter in his arms as he checked their surroundings. “Now, where’d she go?” he wondered out loud.

“Who? Nana Leta?” Peter asked as he knuckled his eyes.

“… _Nana Leta?!!”_

\---

“ _Obfonteri_ , with me,” Aleta commanded, her voice pitched deeply as she appeared behind him. Kraglin had to suck in his cheeks as he tried not to grimace. He turned away from her two teammates and Horuz.

“Cap’n,” he replied, tucking his hands behind his back as he strode over to her.

“We need to speak – _privately_.”

He quirked a brow. He wasn’t expecting her to have any wish to speak with him. They walked in silence down a few halls until they entered a conference room. She locked the door behind them.

“Sit down, Obfonteri,” she commanded, gesturing to the table and chairs before her. He obliged and realized as he looked up at her firm posturing that this was feeling a lot more like an interrogation than a conversation. “Or should I call you _mama_?”

Kraglin recoiled. “If you think you can single me out and grill me about Peter…”

“Settle down, _Mama_. I already know what I need to know. Just a few more questions.”

“ _Fine_ ,” grumbled Kraglin.

“How much do you trust Udonta?”

Kraglin’s face blanked. “Sorry, _what_?”

“How much – do you trust – Udonta?” she repeated, spacing each part out like he was dumb.

“With my life, completely… _Why_?!” he replied defensively.

“What about with Peter’s life?”

“Why’re you askin me that?”

“Answer the question!”

“Yondu loves Peter. He’d do anythin for him, he’s a good dad…”

“Shut up, Kraglin, I don’t need none of that gooey shit.”

“So, what’re you really askin then?!”

Her voice was full of steel as she spoke, “Listen up, _boy_ , I’ve been in your shoes before – First Mate to the man I loved, a Ravager Captain through and through, raising his kids on a working ship… And you know how that ended up, don’t you?”

Kraglin’s throat went dry and he had to look away. Yeah, he remembered. Their three kids had been young adults, about his age, when he had joined Stakar’s crew at Yondu’s behest. Back then, he had no delusions of being ‘ _first mate’_ one day. All he cared about was finding a better life than the lower levels of Xandar, and the devilish blue man who had offered it to him. 

He was quiet and observant, even back then, and he saw how Stakar treated Aleta – with a sort of love, sure, but with a dominance that belittled her, not just as her superior officer, but something that said she always would be trapped beneath him. Kraglin could see Aleta was more ambitious than that; that she wouldn’t be forever grateful to serve. But she had held her tongue, _mostly_ , and made the best of being First Mate and a mother.

And then, well, that all fell apart when their kids were captured and held against Stakar…

He tried to rescue them but… Shit went _bad._

Bad as bad can get… and them kids were killed, all three.

And Aleta blamed him.

Something burned up inside her and left her a husk of what she was, a shell filled only with a fiery hatred inside her heart. All the resentment of the last two decades spent serving him came forward. Back then, Kraglin had thought Stakar made her a captain to save her from herself. But now he wondered if he did it to save himself from the ticking time bomb that was his wife.

She interrupted him from his memories, “You need to think about a back-up plan. If shit starts going sideways, how are you gonna make sure Peter survives?”

“Yondu would kill for Peter…”

“I _know_ ,” She replied impatiently. “All Ravagers would _kill_ for each other; that’s easy in our line of work. But would he _die_ for Peter? Would _you_?” She studied his face with her deep brown eyes. Her gaze was so sharp, it felt like she was looking right through him. Her voice came out gravelly as she warned, “Once you become _mama_ to a baby… there’s no surviving if they don’t.”

A chill ran down Kraglin’s back and arms. The thought of that, a galaxy without Peter in it… the void that would cleave in him... _No_ , he couldn’t even begin to imagine that.

“I’m telling you this because I don’t want to see it happen again, not to anyone, if I can help it… I lost my babies, Kraglin. _Forever_. Now your little boy has asked me to be his _nana_ , and I don’t take that lightly... Just know, if you need to escape, you can come to me, and I’ll make sure you and the boy disappear – without a trace.”

“You…” Kraglin had to pause to swallow against the painful knot in his throat. “You would do that to Yondu? Betray him like that, for me?”

“Not for you,” she corrected, her dark eyes shining and glassy in the light. “ _For Peter_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? More of this Aleta bond developing? Some back story? just move right on from this? Lol. 
> 
> Thanks for any feedback and thanks for reading!  
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


	5. Big Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toddler Peter wants to be a big boy! But there's a small part of his baby-hood that he's not quite ready to give up, resulting in a mini-heart attack for his daddies when his celestial DNA lends a helping hand.

The standard day was broken into two 15-hour shifts. Unless missions interrupted routine, the change was essentially a day and a night shift, not that that really mattered. It was always night in space. But the majority of the crew worked the day shift, with only a skeleton crew at night to keep operations running smoothly.

This passing night would have been uneventful, as the journey toward their next job would take at least 3 more days of travel, but there had been a fight among the night shift crew. It was the First Mate’s night shift, so the Captain could sleep.

He never liked to alarm the Captain for anything short of an explosion, enemy sighting, or multiple deaths. But this brawl had turned into a free-for-all. He was about to comm Yondu for help, when a large Reptoid named Zeya used his weighty tail to sweep the knees of the entangled pit of fighting, leaving at least a dozen assholes groaning on their backs.

“Ya bastards owe Zeya a debt a’ gratitude!” Kraglin barked at the crew, pointing at Zeya with his thumb. “If he ain’t squashed this here n’ now, like he did, all ‘a ya’ll woulda’ had an arrow through the eye! As it is, you’ll be lucky if ya ain’t spaced or tossed in the brig! Clean yer damn selves up, and pray to whatever deity ya gots that Cap’n ain’t in a ‘ _teachin mood’_ when he hears bout this! ”

Kraglin made a fast, mental list of all the names involved, rewarded Zeya for ending the fight, and ordered whoever was left standing to drag those in need of medical attention off to the Med Bay. Then he put a few more senior members in charge of clearing away debris before turning heel and stomping off for his quarters.

He was exhausted, deep in his bones. And angry. There would be so much left to sort through later. He would have to gather information, create a report, and figure out the responsible parties. Then, Captain could decide how far to take things. Kraglin didn’t usually hope to see anyone spaced, but right then, he was thinking the Captain should just space them all.

He stomped down the hall to their quarters, passing crew members by with a mean scowl that gave them fair warning not to approach him with any bullshit right then. He needed to eat, shower, and collapse into bed – and at this point, was considering bypassing the first two.

Kraglin paused outside the door and forced himself to draw a few deep breaths. His mate and young son should still be sleeping and while he would vent _in full_ to the Captain later, little Peter didn’t need to see his bad side right now.

He opened the door and entered the Captain’s quarters. It was dark, save for a few guidance lights on the floor. Kraglin could hear the deep chested breathing of his love, steady and even. He shuffled quietly toward their son’s cot on the opposite side of the room and found it empty.

_Spoiled bratling,_ he smirked, knowing where the toddler must be. He went to the little boy’s dresser to snatch a day outfit for him and tucked those fresh clothes under his arm. He then made his way to the big bed, eyes adjusting to the dim room, to see the two sleeping forms of his mate and son.

They were both fast asleep, back to back. His mate’s blue skin exposed by the blanket stealer behind him. Kraglin couldn’t help but grin. He was still tired, but no longer angry seeing his family so peaceful and sweet. Little Peter had his yellow, Terran-dog plushie in his arms, his spit-out blue pacifier a few inches from his face, and his feet pressed hard into Yondu’s back. Kraglin shook his head and straightened out the covers, tucking his mate back in, and nudging his baby’s shoulder gently.

Pete’s nose twitched and he began to stir softly, eventually sitting up to knuckle his eyes and yawn. Kraglin waited, so he wouldn’t startle the boy. He wanted to let Yondu sleep a bit longer. Once the boy finally opened his eyes and looked around, he saw Kraglin and his face lit up. There was no feeling like that in the world. It melted him every time. That something so precious could delight in seeing him. He wasn’t sure what he had done in the galaxy to deserve that feeling.

He quickly pressed his finger to his lips, shushing the toddler before he could squeak. Peter nodded his head, suddenly very serious, as if accepting a mission. Kraglin had to suppress a chuckle, as he reached out to pluck his son from the bed and settle him on his hip. The boy threw his arms tightly around his neck and nestled in.

Time must have been strange to a toddler, Kraglin thought, as he cuddled his boy, and felt grateful that it didn’t matter if he were gone an hour, a night, or all day - he would still get the warmest hug from Peter. He put a gentle kiss on his son’s curls and carded his finger through them. So unruly after a night of sleep, he knew he would need to wet the comb to get them to lay right.

Before taking his son to the bathroom to change and prep him for the day, Kraglin reached into his pocket to retrieve a small item – a palm sized tracker on a black leather cord. He laid the item gently in his mate’s open hand, so he would see it right away when he woke.

This was how they let the other know they had taken Peter. One always had the boy and the other had the tracker, always locked onto Peter’s location, so long as he kept his special bracelet on – and considering it was sealed, it hadn’t failed them yet. They rarely needed the tracker, but it was a great comfort to them to know it was there.

Once Kraglin had Peter in the bathroom and shut the door, the boy burst, “ _Mama_!”

“Shhh,” he reminded him, giving him another cuddle and kiss. “Daddy’s still sleepin, ‘member?”

“Memba, Mama,” Peter said with a firm nod, still clasping his father around the neck and holding on tight. “Sowwy.” His lisped r’s and l’s all came out w’s.

“You sleep good, baby?” Kraglin asked as he patted his back.

“Oh yes, Mama!” Peter exclaimed, pulling out of the hug with a big smile. “Good dweams! Was fwy-yin wif Mama n’ Daddy tah steaw a _giant cookie_!”

Kraglin snorted as he cupped the toddler’s squishy cheeks. “Daddy’s gonna love that, our lil Ravager-in-trainin.”

He checked to see if his son was dry. They were still working on potty training, which meant accidents still happened, but were becoming fewer, thank the _Stars_. He would miss the days he could hold and coddle his baby, but not the diapers. _Never_ the diapers.

“And look at that, dry again. Good job!” He gave his son a high-five, which the boy soaked up, loving the praise and feeling damn proud of his self too. Kraglin was still quick to get the child on the toilet to keep it that way. Once the boy finished, Kraglin helped him wash his hands and brush his teeth, and changed him into his day outfit.

“Paci, Mama?” Peter asked, extending his hand out to receive.

“No baby. It’s daytime. Paci is for bedtime,” Kraglin answered. He gave Peter’s curls a comb through and then asked, “You ready for breakfast?”

“Oh yes, Mama,” Peter said again.

Kraglin smirked at the funny way he had started saying that.

“Wan’ pan-capes.”

His language was getting better, but there were still words he messed up. _Pancakes_ being Kraglin’s current favorite.

“I’m sure you do,” he nodded and poke the toddler in the belly, getting a little giggle back. “We’ll see what Cook has fer ya. But yer gonna be a good boy and eat whatcha get, ain’t ya?”

“Oh yes, Mama. Pete’s a good boy.”

“I know he is,” Kraglin said as he lifted his child up, who clung to his stuffie again.

“Can _walk_ , Mama,” he pouted, using the toy to push against Kraglin’s chest.

“Once we’re in the hall, I’ll setcha down. Fer now, you jus stay quiet so we can let Daddy sleep.”

Peter wiggled and flailed once they were out of the bathroom, and Kraglin felt his exhaustion spike again, making him grit his teeth, trying to hold onto his patience. He caved, setting the boy down and went to at least grab his hand.

The boy dipped from his reach and raced back over to Yondu. Kraglin was about to haul him back by the shirt, but he let his hand hover as he watched their son gently tuck his stuffie into the nook of his daddy’s arm.

Kraglin smiled. It was moments like that he treasured most. He tried to soak it into memory, even as Peter turned back at him and offered up his little hand, signaling he was ready to keep going. He snuck them back out of the quarters, hearing his mate groan softly as the door let too much light in for a moment.

“That was sweet of you, lil bug.”

“Daddy says Puppy hasta stay home now ‘cause Petey’s a big boy.”

“S’at so?”

“Oh yes, Mama! Daddy says big boys use da potty and weave stuffies in da bed… _And_ dey eats der food, Mama.”

“Good ta know, Pete.”

“Dey a’so a’ways mind der Cap’n and… Daddy says, mind der Mama’s too, but Cap’n more.”

Kraglin rolled his eyes. Maybe on another night, he wouldn’t have been petty about it, but right then he couldn’t help it. “Ya know, big boys also don’t go in the pouch anymore, do they?”

Peter blinked his eyes, thinking seriously about it, before embracing the idea. “Oh yes, Mama! Big boys is too big for da pouch.”

Kraglin gave a hum, knowing Yondu was gonna kill him for that, and ruffled Peter’s curls.

Done with talking for the moment, Peter began bouncing with energy as they walked. Impulse struck and he pulled his hand away from Kraglin and took off running down the hall for the Mess. Kraglin tried not to groan at the endless energy Peter always woke with. He gave a loud clearing of his throat. The boy heard it, spun around and ran right back. He looked up at his Mama with big eyes, looking worried he was about to get in trouble.

“Be good, scamp,” Kraglin told him, taking his paw back in his own again. Both he and Yondu thought Peter was too little to run the halls with other Ravagers around. He was so small, it wouldn’t even be the crews’ fault if they ran him over without noticing. It was better for everyone if they kept Pete close til he was less fragile and easier to see.

Once they arrived at the Mess Hall, half of which was still being cleaned by the night crew, Kraglin guided his son to the food pick up. He hoped if he acted casual, Peter wouldn’t pick up on the disarray around them, but Peter tensed up immediately, looking all around with worry splash across his little face.

“Mama, wha’ happen?”

“Nothin ta worry bout. Mama n’ Daddy’ll sort it all out.”

“Dey’s in twouble?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Gonna has time-out?”

“Somethin like that. Now, come on. Let’s see what Cook’s got fer ya.”

Peter’s face lit up as Cookie handed him his plate with a knowing smile. “ _Pan-capes!!_ ” Peter celebrated.

When Peter finished eating his breakfast like an unruly little caveman, he began eagerly fishing into Kraglin’s many pockets. Kraglin allowed Peter to climb onto his lap and continue his search, knowing the kid would come up empty, but at least it would occupy him long enough for Kraglin to finish his meal.

Finally, Peter admitted to being stumped. “Paci, Mama?”

“No paci durin the day, Pete, ‘member? Only for night-nights.”

“Oh yes, Mama,” he said with a precocious nod, but his face seemed a bit unsure.

“Big boy, right baby?”

“Yeah,” Peter said reluctantly. His concerned look seemed to be rethinking this whole _big boy_ thing.

Kraglin figured it was time to get his mind off of it. “Come on, let’s go wake up daddy.”

Yondu was up and showered when they entered the family quarters. He was fully dressed and standing by his desk as he fastened on the holster for his arrow. Kraglin set Peter down so he could run to Yondu and throw his hands around the Centaurian’s legs as he grinned and called out an enthusiastic, “Daddy!!”

“Mornin Pouchlin,” Captain said, as he bent to touched their foreheads together.

“Had yummy pan-capes, Daddy!” Peter informed Yondu, as Kraglin dropped onto the bed like a sack.

“Tire out yer ma that much already, huh?”

“Big boys is tirin, Daddy,” Peter said with a confident nod.

“Sure are, but not as tirin as a riot in the Mess last night.”

Yondu raised a brow. “Ya got the report for me?”

“Not yet, Cap. Give me til lunch? I ain’t hardly slept.”

“Fine, but don’t get used to cushy treatment jus cuz yer my bedmate.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” Kraglin replied dryly.

Peter tugged on Yondu’s coat for attention and tried his luck, “Paci, Daddy?”

“ _Pete_ ,” Kraglin scolded but didn’t get up from the bed.

“No paci, boy. You know that.”

“But what if…”

“No, Peter. Now say bye-bye to Mama. We gotta get to the bridge and let him sleep so he can quit bellyachin and get that report done for me,” Yondu said as he scooped Peter up. Kraglin didn’t grouse as he pulled the blankets around himself in a cocoon.

\--

Never in a million years did Yondu think there would be children’s toys on the _Eclector_. But there they were, left on the floor since yesterday. He set Peter down by his building blocks, gave him a pat on the head, and then got to work.

Peter was used to keeping himself busy while his daddies worked. He didn’t always like it, but he tried to be good like they asked him to. He stacked his multi-colored blocks a few different ways before he got bored and started drawing shapes instead, managing to keep himself entertained for almost two hours, only having to interrupt Yondu once to ask for the potty.

Once coloring got too frustrating, he picked up one of his blocks and pretended it was an M-ship. He ran around in clumsy circles, making believe that he was flying. That was fun! But he started getting tired and edgy, kicking blocks that got in the way and showing little growls of irritation. Yondu noticed and decided it was as good a time as any for a nap.

“A’right comere, pup, it’s pouch time,” Yondu told Peter, reaching his hands out to the boy. Peter dropped his block, with an offended look on his face.

“No Daddy, _big boy_ ,” Peter corrected him. “Big boys don’t go pouch. Mama says.”

“Oooh I’m gonna _kill_ yer Ma,” he scowled and shook his head. He advanced further and said, “Nah c’mon, no complainin. Pouch ya go.”

Peter retreated out of reach and Yondu halted only to keep the boy from bolting. He did _not_ have the time to go chasing a slippery little toddler all around. 

“No Daddy! _Big Boy_!!” the little one protested, on the verge of angry tears.

“Ah-ah,” Yondu scolded with a wagging finger. “No shoutin at yer daddy. You raise yer voice again, boy, and it’ll be corner-time instead a’ nap-time.”

Peter swayed in place, “No pouch, Daddy.”

“Big boys listen to their Cap’ns, Pete. And what did Cap’n jus’ say?”

Peter batted his big conflicted eyes as he thought about it shyly. “Says pouch, but… but…”

“C’mon,” Yondu urged, reaching his hand out again.

Peter gave in, even as he whimpered all the way. Yondu lifted him up and tucked the little one into his pouch. It was a snug fit these days and it occurred to him the boy was _nearly_ right. His days in the pouch were numbered, especially with how quick he was growing at this age.

Yondu petted Peter’s head as the kid gave a big yawn. “There ya go, lil bratling. Now close them eyes and take a rest, okay?”

“Paci?”

“You can have it a bedtime, Pete, not before.”

“Kay, Daddy,” Peter said, with no more energy to fight.

Peter let his eyes shut as his daddy move to sit in his chair. After a few minutes, Yondu felt the slight shifts still and the boy’s breath become long and even. He savored the moment and then got back to work.

That was how Kraglin found them, when he joined them on the bridge – Yondu in his Captain’s chair, scrolling through supply orders, and Peter passed out in the pouch. He approached with two cups of caf. He handed Yondu one and then used his free hand to brush Peter’s check.

“Didn’t think he’d be nappin so soon,” Kraglin said then smirked, “You _softie_.”

Yondu’s eyes snapped up from his datapad to growl at Kraglin, “What’d you say?!”

Kraglin ignored his mate’s dangerous tone. “We agreed no pacifier durin the day.”

“ _Huh_?” His tone changed to confused. He looked down at the sleeping boy in the pouch and was stunned to see Peter had snuck a soother into his mouth. “What the… Krags, I have _no_ idea where he got that…”

Kraglin didn’t seem perplexed. He shrugged at Yondu and took a sip of his caf. “Maybe he stashed one with his toys here. Or, maybe ya had on in yer pocket n’ forgot.”

“I woulda’ seen it…”

“He’s a sneaky one, that’s for sure.”

Yondu shook off the shock and tried to put it out of mind as just a strange occurrence. He drank the caf Kraglin brought him, thinking maybe he needed it more than he realized.

“I s’pose... Where my report, Obfonteri?”

“Talk it over at lunch?”

“Ain’t hungry.”

“Ya already skipped breakfast. Ya gotta eat, Cap. Plus I bet yer lil _pouchlin_ ’s gonna wake up hungry.”

\--

“Sleep good, naughty boy?” Kraglin asked as Peter knuckled his eyes, looking rather disoriented.

The boy didn’t appreciate being removed from his warm and cozy pouch so abruptly and sat in a cold chair with a meal in front of him. He was a bit hungry when he thought about it, but it was just a lot to take in at once.

“ _Good_ boy, Mama,” Peter grumped back, words a bit fumbled behind the pacifier still in his mouth.

“Oh really?” Kraglin replied, as he hooked his finger into the wide ring of the soother and gently pulled it out of Peter’s mouth. Peter went cross-eyed looking at it and then began blushing. “Are you s’posed to have this?”

“Naptimes _is_ night-night, Mama. Is not fair.”

“Where’d you even get it?” Yondu asked.

“Hmm,” Peter thought about it deeply. “I dunno, Daddy. I jus want it, n’ den I has it… Maybe Paci missed Pete too!” His daddies chuckled and took turns petting his head and telling him to eat his food.

Once the family finished their lunch, they gathered up their things and prepared to head back to the bridge. Peter reached for the loose soother when he thought his daddies were distracted, almost getting it before Yondu caught his hand and then plucked it away. Peter jumped with surprise and then put on a full-blown pout. Yondu glared at the little boy’s expression before marching on out of the Mess.

“Peter,” Kraglin said in his warning tone, taking Peter by the hand to follow after Yondu, “No paci. Daddy’s gonna keep it safe til bedtime, okay?”

“But… But… Want _now_ , Mama,” Peter whined loudly.

“I know, but ya can’t have it.”

“But whyyyy?” Peter’s whine became a shrill noise. Kraglin winced as Yondu sent him a warning glare, one that said _take control of this before I do._

“No whining, boy, ‘less you want a time-out. And you know why. Doc says ya can’t keep using it or you’ll mess up yer teeth. You understand?”

Peter stopped walking, pulling his hand out of Kraglin’s as he thought about his response to his parents. Kraglin and Yondu stopped too and looked at him with uncertainty. The boy’s pout was quickly overtaken with an impish look in his eyes. He began grinning in a way both Yondu and Kraglin knew meant he was about to do something naughty.

“Boy…” Yondu tried to stop it before it happened, reaching out a hand.

“ _No_!” Peter shouted gleefully as he took off running from his parents with the joy of mischief on his face.

Kraglin and Yondu passed eachother exasperated looks. Just as they were set to go after him, they saw a bright light glow between the hands of their toddler, and a pacifier appeared in his palms out of nowhere. They went slack jawed as Peter popped it in his mouth and continued running from them.

“ _Boy_! Git back here!” Yondu shouted, spiriting after a giggling terror. “Don’t you run from me!!”

\--

Peter was crying quietly in his time-out corner back in their quarters. He had two minutes to sit and think about listening and not running away from his parents. They had hurried back here, grateful that no one else had seen that little stunt of Peter’s and set him immediately on his naughty chair. He earned that time-out for being fresh, but it was partially for his parents to get a moment to talk about this.

“What the _hell_ was that?!” Yondu snapped in a whisper at Kraglin. They were still in the same room as Peter, but far enough away that they were pretty sure he couldn’t hear them over his self-pitying whimpers.

“How should I know?! Yer the one who met Ego! Did he say anything about…”

“About being a _magician_?! No, ya idiot!”

“Fuck, we shoulda found out what the fuck he was,” Kraglin spoke into his hands as he wiped them across his face.

“He can’t do that, not _ever_ again. If anyone ever found out… Can you even imagine the bounty they’d put on his head?!”

“No and I don’t want to know. Look, I’ll talk to him. You go walk it off. Let’s just get through today and we can figure out what we’re gonna do about it once he’s in bed tonight.”

Yondu scowled but nodded. He passed an uncomfortable glance at Peter’s back before heading for the door. Peter began to cry louder when he heard Yondu leave. Kraglin grimaced, feeling badly for his son, but he needed to sit his full sentence. It was only 30 more seconds away.

Kraglin sat down on the bed and watched the timer. Soon as it went off, he called Peter from his time-out and received a lap full of whimpering little Terran. He hugged and comforted the boy, kissing and rocking him til all his tears and “big sads” were gone.

“Tell me why you had ta’ sit in time-out, Pete.”

“Was naughty, Mama,” Peter mumbled into Kraglin’s chest, fingers digging at his different pockets and zippers.

“What’d you do that was naughty?”

“Runned away, Mama.”

“That’s right, baby. We don’t run away from Mama n’ Daddy, do we?”

“No, it’s not nice.”

“I’m glad you learned your lesson. You sat very good in the corner. All done now, baby,” Kraglin said, as he pulled out a tissue and cleaned up Peter’s face.

They snuggled a while longer, until Peter seemed ready to get on with his day. He tried to wiggle off of Kraglin’s lap, but Kraglin held him tighter. 

“Hang on, Petey, listen a sec, got one more thing ta’ talk ta’ you about.”

Peter looked up with big curious eyes. “What, Mama?”

“That thing you did, when you—when you made that paci appear in yer hands? Well, my lil sweetling, ya can’t do that anymore, okay?”

Peter turned his head at Kraglin, looking confused and concerned. “Is bad, Mama?”

Kraglin petted the boy’s head, hoping to assuage his worries. “No, baby, it’s not bad – it’s just that— _well_ — Daddy n’ I don’t know _what_ it is, exactly, or where the thing ya made really _came_ from… And—uh—so, what I’m sayin is, y’ain’t bad, baby, but ya can’t do that again. It’s not safe, okay?”

“Okay, Mama. Pete no do.”

“Thank you, my good boy,” Kraglin said, giving Peter’s forehead a kiss, before letting him down. “How ‘bout we call it a day and go play with the toys in yer room?”

Peter’s face lit up. “Music box, Mama!”

“You got it, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!!
> 
> For those of you wanting more Aleta, it is coming, but this one was closer to being finished and I wanted to post an update with an added glimpse of Peter's celestial abilities. 
> 
> I will be jumping around a bit in terms of timeline, but have lots of teenage and child Peter almost ready to post so hopefully there will be a multi-chapter add in the near future.
> 
> Still open to ideas of course, so please let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> ~ Please leave a comment~ 
> 
> I am open to ideas + suggestions!


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